Scarlet Shadows
by Kazie Solo
Summary: NJO AU. From the streets of Corellia rose Moirae, an all-female assassin trio under the command of the mysterious 'Jade'. Their plans for revenge against the Solos were perfect - until fate brought love along to intervene. AT JDTK JJKZ LMC
1. Suspicere

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Scarlet Shadows  
© Kaz, 2003

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Chapter One – Suspicere

There was nothing Leia Organa Solo could see in the room she was trapped in, no matter how hard she strained her eyes. Nothing but the darkness that already devoured her _and_ continued to devour her despite her efforts to stay away from its ghastly vortex. It seemed to have fun torturing her that way. It would pull her into its dark abode, making her shriek and scream continuously because of the emptiness that she wasn't used to experiencing; then it would push her out of it, making her crave for the light that existed at the end of the hollow tunnel. But before she could recover, the darkness would pull her again, and the cycle would repeat itself.

Just released from the hold of the unseen entity that caused her much misery, Leia pushed herself up from the stone-cold floor, and attempted to find her way through the dark. She didn't know where she was going, because she could not see a thing, but she knew what she was looking for. _Who_ she was looking for. As she desperately searched for that person she wanted to come upon for many, many years, she bumped into the frigid wall of stone that made her remember that she was trapped in a cavity with no way out.

She fell on her knees, pounding the barrier that kept her away from the rest of the world, the cruel world that refused to acknowledge her existence. She knew that the young woman she was looking for was somewhere in that barbaric world, probably treated as worse as she was by people she did not know. "Jaina…" she whispered in a barely audible tone, shutting her eyes as she allowed her hands and her body to slide down completely towards the ground in a heap.

The woman then fell into a session of crying and yelling, demanding that her daughter be returned to her. But nobody came to her aid. In fact, nobody heard her. Her only companion was the darkness, which was, at the same time, her enemy. The darkness that, once again, began to take her away from the world of reality and into its own world of anguish and pain. 

"Jaina!" Leia screamed at the top of her lungs, reaching out to touch the figure that only she could see, but her efforts were all in vain. Not only did the shape that she believed to be her daughter disappear, the darkness began to eat her like a giant underground demon. Realizing that it was once again time for her to go through the disheartening process, she stopped struggling and submitted to the unseen force that started to gnaw on her spirit, understanding its pattern well enough to know that in a certain span of time, it would soon be over.

And it started all over again.

"It's her again," Peter Stockher, a middle-aged doctor, commented as he heard an anguished howl from the far end of the corridor. He was used to the fact that his patients would go into such outbursts at one time or another, but not to the seemingly constant one of his most well kept shut-in, Leia Organa Solo. Sighing, he called his assistant over, handing her a syringe. "We better keep her mouth shut if we want the rest of the patients to sleep in peace."

The nurse nodded in affirmation, taking the syringe from her superior's hand, and followed him towards the detention cell labeled Z-099. Upon reaching the door, Dr. Stockher took out a chain of keys from the pocket of his trousers, looked for the appropriate one, and stuck it into the keyhole, determined more than ever to calm the patient down, as her cries grew worse.

Extremely curious, Dr. Stockher's assistant asked, "Doc, do you know who this _Jaina_ is?"

He only shrugged in response, continuing in his effort to pry the door open. "Nobody knows, I'm afraid," he added, pausing to look at his subordinate who waited for his wordy answer, "not even Dr. Heese, who handled her when she was first contained here. Some of the nurses told me that it's the name of her daughter --- but she doesn't have a daughter." He sighed, going back to what he was doing. "The things lunatics say…"

There was a soft _click_ from the door that made him smile in satisfaction. "Ah, there we go." He put the keys back into his pocket, checked if his own tranquilizer-filled syringe was within reach in case his patient would go berserk on him, then nodded to his nurse. "I would say ladies first, but I can't take chances in this situation. Watch out; she can be very dangerous."

They slid into the cell as quietly as possible, wondering why it grew calm all of a sudden. It didn't take long for them to see the answer, however, for Leia was slumped on the ground, either asleep or plainly unconscious. Smiling, Dr. Stockher knelt down by her side, took her arm and felt her pulse, then, he took out the syringe from the folds of his robe. "Precautionary measures, Mrs. Solo. I'm sorry," he whispered, before he injected the dosage into her cold, frail arm.

Leia moaned softly, then drifted into a peaceful slumber.

"That should do it," Dr. Stockher muttered, standing up. He looked at the woman intently for a few moments, examining as much as he could through his eyes with the light the open door permitted, before he turned around and walked away. His female associate did the same, closing the door and once again, shutting off the light that would've done wonders for the patient --- when awake, of course.

Inside the dark and eerily quiet detention cell, the suffering woman stirred lightly, moving slightly to lie down on another side of her body. The tranquilizer might have stopped her from screaming and shrieking, like what she had done time and again, but only for a short while. It would not be able to hold the darkness out for long, nor would it be able to keep away the pain, the hurt, the sadness and the anguish from Leia's fragile heart.

"Ninety-eight… ninety-nine… one… one hundred!"

Rolling over to lie on the soft patch of green grass that decorated the back lawn of the establishment popularly known as _Feu de Joie_, Tahiri Veila inhaled deeply and successively, trying to regain the air she had lost during her attempt to strengthen her body through various exercises. She had just completed a hundred push-ups; the next thing she was going to complete was her fifty rounds of jogging and twenty-five rounds of running around the area.

Blond, willowy and undeniably attractive, she was one of the most sought-out courtesans in the nightclub, especially among the younger members of the elite society. Her popularity, however, was not only brought about by her beauty, but most especially because of her wit and charm. Only fifteen, she was already wise beyond her years, and she knew how to deal with sticky situations that most fifteen-year-olds would not be able to handle.

She stood up, having recovered from the tiring exercise that she submitted herself into just a few minutes back, and prepared herself for the next round of her training that scorching afternoon. Barefooted like she always was --- for that was how she wanted to go about --- she sprinted around the grassy turf slowly but steadily, moving around it fifty times, as she intended to do. Taking only a short break from that exhausting activity, she began the faster twenty-five-lap exercise until she was clearly out of breath.

"Wow, Tahiri. I could never pull that off like you could."

Fanning herself with the use of her face towel, she turned around to face one of her two closest friends, Danni Quee, who looked like her adult counterpart with her long curly blond hair and emerald eyes that always seemed to be asking questions. All sorts of questions. Tahiri didn't blame her, of course. The twenty-three year old was a gifted young woman, with an impressively high intellect and level of curiousity that rarely accompanied dames as beautiful as she was.

"If you weren't as sickly as you are now, I bet you could," she told the older woman, before she flashed her an apologetic smile along with a slight wave of her hand as she flipped her hair. "Hey, I'm not rubbing it on you or anything. I don't think of you as a weakling at all." Then, they started walking towards their quarters, the rooms that were generously provided by the owner of the nightclub, Arica Jade. "In fact, I look up to you a lot. You're basically an older version of me, only with a bigger brain."

"Actually, smarter people have smaller brains."

"Really?"

Danni shrugged lightly, almost imperceptibly, but the fifteen-year-old knew her too well to notice it. "Or so I've heard," she added to the gesture in explanation. Smart she was, she didn't want to go around spreading unverified information, especially when she gets the credit if ever it _does_ get verified. Before she could add anything more to her statement --- not that she had anything more to add, anyway --- she came to a halt, apparently remembering something out of the blue. "You go on ahead, Tahiri. There's something I was supposed to do but I haven't done it. Argh, me and my memory."

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For someone very smart, she sure is forgetful, the younger blond woman thought, rather amused at the sight of Danni Quee commenting on her rather off memory, before she nodded and said confidently, "Oh sure, Danni. I'll be fine on my own." She then winked, the light-hearted smile on her face becoming even more playful. "Besides, you won't be gone 'till nightfall, are you? I mean… you _are_ helping out tonight, remember?"

The other groaned, not actually pleased with the situation, but was left with no choice in the matter. "I'll be back soon," she assured Tahiri, before she, too, broke into a playful smile that matched the other girl's very well. "Unless I _forget_ that I'm supposed to help you out tonight, of course. You know, me and my memory…"

It seemed to be somewhat miraculous that someone as serious and contemplative as Danni pulled off a joke like that, and it was evident in the way Tahiri gaped at her while laughing in a totally heartfelt fashion. The older woman burst into laughter as well, not realizing the full value of what she had just done, aside from making Tahiri laugh. As soon as the fit was over, she gave a mock salute to the younger woman, then turned around and ran off, fearing that the use of words for a short goodbye would only cause her delay in accomplishing the errand.

After a few moments of staring at the woman's departing figure, Tahiri, too, turned around and went on her way, but not without heaving a sigh. Despite the fact that she considered Danni one of her closest friends --- and her older sister, in fact --- she barely knew anything about the woman. True, she was very intelligent, and would've done great as a researcher in one of the Solo's many laboratories that were just starting out, yet she was wasting her life in the _Feu de Joie_ as a waitress. 

It wasn't right at all.

There was nobody in the _Feu de Joie,_ however, who could match up to the luster of Nadine Nietzsche, the star of each night's breathtaking show. A stunningly ravishing eighteen-year-old with no past to haunt her, she lived one day after the other with a smile, not at all caring what the future could possibly bring her. She welcomed every opportunity that came her way, whether that be a new job that she could indulge herself in during the day, or a new customer that she could toy around with during the night.

Her room, which was basically unoccupied during the day, was already packed even before nightfall, as her friends were busy dressing her up for the upcoming show. As usual, she sat on a wooden stool in front of a large mirror, already dressed with the best garments the nightclub had in store for its performers, while the other courtesans fixed her hair, put on her make up, and did everything else that would make her even more beautiful than she already was.

"Once again, the prettiest girl in the _Feu de Joie,_" a voice said from the doorway, and immediately, all the women stopped to acknowledge the arrival of their superior, Arica Jade. She, too, was simply exquisite looking, with her long red-gold hair and expressive jade-colored eyes. In return, she nodded curtly to her subordinates, before she slowly motioned for them to go away and leave her alone with their precious starlet. Closing the door, she asked, "Where are the others?"

"Tahiri's in her quarters, changing; Danni's out on an errand," Nadine replied rather nonchalantly as she continued to brush her long brown locks that so many people envied. She was forced to stop what she was doing, however, as soon as she saw the expression on her boss' features through the older woman's reflection on the mirror. Putting the hairbrush down, she muttered, "Oh _no_. Don't tell me you're not going to let me perform again tonight!"

Arica shook her head apologetically, her green eyes fixed on their reflections, most especially that of her prized entertainer. "I need you three tonight," she stated plainly, and that was all Nadine needed to know. She gripped the doorknob and twisted it, but before she walked out, she told her, "Suit up. Run down and tell Tahiri, and Danni, too, once she returns. Work's going to be a little tricky tonight, so you might want a special briefing of what you're getting into."

It took a few more moments after Arica's departure for the young courtesan to stand up, sighing heavily as she did so. She then walked up to her wall calendar and crossed out the current date with a black marker, clearly disappointed at the sudden turn of events. After all, four X's were already lined up in a row --- and that was only for a week. "Things are getting worse every day," Nadine told herself as she ran her fingers through the row of X's, frowning. "And I wouldn't be surprised if I'll never get to perform again."

Just like every night, the patient in detention cell Z-099 began her spell of shrieking and screaming, once again calling out aimlessly for someone named _Jaina, _as well as the attention of everyone else in the area. A heavy sigh escaped Dr. Peter Stockher's lips as he stood up and picked up another syringe from his drawer of tranquilizers. It was once again time to visit the famous Leia Organa Solo, although there was no telling how his short appointment would turn out.

It had only been a few short seconds since the doctor's departure when a figure slid quietly into his office. Tall, slender and light-footed, she barely made a sound as she pressed herself against the wall just beside the door, hiding in case Dr. Stockher would turn around and go back to where he came from. She counted mentally from one to five, and when the doctor made no sign of returning, the mysterious young woman clad in a black bodysuit began rummaging through the stuff he kept inside his drawers.

Then, a head popped from the top bar of the doorway. Apparently, she came from the roof. "Lachesis?"

"I'm trying to find it, Clotho," the woman who snuck into the office replied, busy fumbling through the bottom drawer of the doctor's desk. Finding nothing, she quietly shut the tranquilizer-laden drawer and headed to the far corner of the room, which was, to her advantage, engulfed in darkness. If ever the doctor would return, she would have no problem hiding. "It might be in his safe. Watch out for my back, all right?"

The screams that came from the far end of the corridor faded into nothing a few heartbeats later. "Lachesis, hurry!" Clotho called out in a panicked whisper from her hiding place, still upside-down like she was when she first came in. Then, she heard the lock of the detention cell clamp loudly into place, making her heart beat even wilder than before. "He's on his way back!"

Footsteps.

"Not quite."

Those words, and the figure that accompanied them, made Clotho sigh in relief. "Thank heavens, Atropos! Boy, are we lucky to have you watching over both our backs!" she exclaimed as she jumped down from her post and joined the third member of their work force. Her pleased smile, however, disappeared as a frown fell into place. "You didn't kill him, did you?"

The other shook her head, although there was a closed expression on her face. Luckily, the youngest member of the _Moirae_ --- an assassin group which surfaced over the past few months from out of nowhere --- was too overwhelmed by the close call to notice it. "Innocent until proven guilty, Clotho. I just knocked him out _inside_ the detention cell," Atropos answered calmly, before she strained forward to address their squad member who disappeared under the cloak of darkness. "Any luck, Lachesis?"

A few seconds of silence. Then, came Lachesis' answer: "He's guilty."

"The crime?" the leader of the trio asked, rubbing her hands together in preparation for the next step in their mission. She actually didn't have to ask, for their Commander already gave them the reason why they were hunting down the doctor, but she wanted to be sure, nonetheless. There was no harm in asking questions, after all. "Exactly as what we were told?"

"Exactly as we were told. Sleeping serum," Lachesis confirmed as she stepped back into the light, holding a piece of paper and two small bottles of fluid. She looked angry, although she tried to keep that anger to herself. "It was tested on some of the patients here. _Women._ And it worked. It killed them in their sleep." She handed the parchment and pointed to a scribbled note at the bottom of it. "In fact, he's planning to send the formula to the manufacturers the first thing tomorrow."

"That's horrible! And he tested it on women, too! What have we done to the opposite sex to make them despise us that much anyway?" the youngest of the three asked, not restraining the anger and hate she felt at all. She then put her hands on her hips, a sign of her exasperation at the situation. "Well? Don't tell me you're just going to stand here and do nothing, because I won't!"

"Clotho!" Atropos warned, her cinnamon eyes narrowing dangerously at the way their baby was acting. The young woman flinched considerably, and when the leader of the team knew she was back in charge, she began relaying her orders. "Go and get in touch with the police. They'll want to be here to find the body. Make sure you change your voice, act like a lunatic or a panicked nurse or something, so they won't recognize you. Lachesis, go back to headquarters. I'm sure you'd love to check that serum out. But I'll be taking this paper and one of the bottles."

"What about you, Atropos?"

Her eyes had a dangerous, lethal edge, now more than ever. "I'm killing him."

It was nearing sunrise, yet Nadine had not been able to sleep, even when the _Feu de Joie_ already closed, making the noise brought about the dancing women and the drunk customers die down. As she lay on her bed, staring up at the bare ceiling, she joked to herself that she'd take a drop of the sleeping serum to make her drift off to dreamland, but took her words back soon after. All the women who died because of the crazy doctor's schemes made her heart burn even more with anger.

But it wasn't their mission that kept her up, for she was comfortable in the knowledge that the victims of the heinous plot had been avenged. It wasn't Tahiri's childish behavior of rushing into things back at the ward, either. Rather, it was the startling discovery she made in the duration of their mission, the fact that Leia Organa Solo was alive --- yet she did not know why that struck her so hard in the first place.

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Leia Organa Solo's alive…

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Author's Notes: 

This fic is for my sister, **Yuriko Oyama aka RaineSolo**, who inspired me to write through our name-calling. You rock, girlie. *winks*

And **that**, ladies and gentlemen, was what I meant when I said that this is a different kind of Star Wars story. I had long wanted to write a SWNJO fic, but I found it difficult to do some minor insertions in between the books because I haven't read most of them. So to solve my problems: alternate universe. However, for those of you who prefer the Jedi and lightsaber-ish stuff, you can always stop reading. I'm not forcing you to.

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Suspicere, by the way, is Old English for suspicion. I'm going to be using Old English words for the titles, so don't be surprised if they sound familiar but they are spelled incorrectly. Also, there shall be minor **age adjustments**, but so far, the only adjustment I made was for Ben Skywalker (Luke's son). I made him older than he's supposed to be, as he's still an infant in the NJO series. He can't do much as a baby, right? Also… I got a few questions. Does anybody know the **age gap** of Jaina Solo and Jag Fel? How about her and Zekk? I'm too lazy to go through all the books I have to figure them out. Anyway, that's all I have to say for now. Please be so kind to review and tell me what you think _nicely_. Comprende?


	2. Deyja

**Scarlet Shadows  
**© Kaz, 2003

_Chapter Two – Deyja_

At around half past seven in the morning, Arica heard thundering steps from the staircase as she continued to cook their breakfast, and smiled at the sound she was hearing. She guessed that it must be Tahiri, the youngest among the three young women she considered her nieces, running late for the morning meal, as usual. Danni, who was reading that day's newspaper in silence, put the parchment down and averted her gaze on the flight of stairs just a short distance away from the dining room; Nadine, who was helping herself to a glass of water, stopped what she was doing, too.

"I'm so sorry!" Tahiri apologized as she scooted into the doorway of their small but spacious dining hall, bowing ruefully as she said so. As usual, she wasn't wearing her slippers or shoes, as she had told them how much she hated footwear, and how they were made to keep delicate toes in anguish and misery_._ "I was exhausted from going through the vents last night. It's not an easy job, you know, being the vent-climber. It actually sucks."

Sitting back down across her, Nadine flashed a loopsided grin. "You're the one who likes to go around with bare feet, Tahiri. So live with it." She then leaned back against her chair, amusement playing in her features, although there was this certain gleam in her brown eyes that did not seem to go along with the expression of happiness on the rest of her face.

The youngest woman laughed as she lifted her plate and examined her face through her reflection. She had obviously forgotten to drop by the big mirror by the bathroom on the second floor in her hurry. "That's why I'm not requesting for another job, because I'm sure you will all tell me that I'm the one suited for it, robbing me of my freedom of choice," she commented, before she put down the plate and waited for the woman they considered their _aunt_ to bring in the food.

Arica laughed heartily as she put two large plates of food in the middle of the table, Danni standing up to get the rest without being told. "Well, if you want another job," the older woman began with a smirk, pausing to meet Tahiri's eyes which were the color of emeralds, like her own, "you'll have to learn to work with shoes. We're not robbing you of your freedom of choice, Tahiri. It's the vents, or the shoes. Which one would you go for?"

"The vents." She sounded defeated.

"Typical thing for Tahiri _I'd rather get swooshed than wear those shoes' _Veila to choose," Danni joked from her seat, her green eyes glittering playfully before one eyelid dropped to a wink. She then took one of the plates and helped a handful of the food in it into her plate, ignoring the younger woman's threat of smacking her on the head if she says it again which came in an equally kittenish manner.

The meal went on with a cheery atmosphere, the women exchanging jokes and witty comments as they stuffed themselves with the food Arica had kindly prepared for them. However, the club owner noticed that there was something wrong with Nadine. While she laughed whenever a gag was sang out, there was this expression on her pale features that made her look as if she was silently debating on whether she would divulge the secret she was keeping or not.

And that was something Arica could not possibly allow to pass. "Nadine? What's wrong?"

Immediately, the young woman flinched, her chocolate-colored eyes looking at the empty plate that was before her as if it was the most interesting thing in the world. "N-nothing," she stuttered in reply as she fidgeted with her spoon, before averting her eyes to look at the three ladies who sat around her. "Nothing. I'm just stressed out with last night."

Their superior raised a red-gold eyebrow. "You're a terrible liar, Nadine," she stated sternly, obviously not convinced by the eighteen-year-old's answer. She then leaned back against her wooden chair and crossed her arms in front of her chest in an authoritative fashion, her eyes staring at the courtesan-assassin intently. "I'm waiting for your answer. Your _real_ answer."

She looked at her comrades for help, but they were both as concerned as Arica was. Sighing in realization that there was nothing she could do to make them stop bothering her, she decided to tell them the truth. "I don't know why this is even bothering me in the first place," Nadine began helplessly, keeping her gaze away from their boss who was making her very uncomfortable with the way she was looking at her, "and why I didn't tell you the moment I found out, but"

Tahiri leaned even closer to her. "C'mon, Nadine! What is it?"

"It's Leia Organa Solo. She she's _alive_."

The listeners were all shocked at her announcement, but their shock came at different intensities. Tahiri, though she seemed surprised, only gaped at the young woman. Danni, who usually took shocking news with limited physical gestures --- as she often took surprises of that kind in her life as a researcher --- did not only look at the speaker with wide eyes, one of her hands was covering her mouth.

It was the eldest of the four women, however, who had the greatest intensity of shock among them all. Arica practically stood up, slamming her hands on the table and pushing her chair backward in reaction as she did so. "What?!" she asked, greatly surprised, and despite the firmness of her voice, there was no trace of anger in it. Shortly after, realizing how she had acted, she slid back into her seat and inquired in voice just above a whisper, "Are you sure it was her?"

Nadine shrugged, much to the older woman's disappointment. "I don't know, Aunt Arica," she admitted, this time meeting the redhead's green eyes with her brown ones, "I don't know how I identified it as her in the first place. I don't even know why I'm telling you about this, when I haven't confirmed if it was really her." She then shook her head. "I don't even _know_ her!"

"Well, this sure is something we have to investigate," Arica said, relaxing and regaining her composure. She swept her gaze from one girl to the other, finally resting it on the leader of the assassin trio she established. "But there's something else we have to check out first." She stood up, walked over to the small table where Danni left the newspaper she was reading, and picked it up. "Gerhardus Wohler, a freelance photographer, working for various newspaper companies. I find it simply ironic that all the pictures associated with his name are of murder victims. Look at what we have for today."

She tossed the newspaper to the young woman who sat nearest to her, which was Danni, and the other two immediately scurried to her side to examine the article that decorated the front page. Just as what Arica said, it was about a widow murdered in her own home, with a matching picture that had Wohler's name printed immediately below it. "Okay, so he took the picture of a dead woman. Big deal," Tahiri muttered, pulling back to address their boss. "What's your point, Aunt Arica? I mean, people die everyday."

"No, wait," the girl's older version, twenty-three-year-old Danni, interrupted, handing the periodical to their leader as she turned to face their aunt. "I remember reading about a murder case just a few days ago. It was Wohler who took the photograph, and it was pretty fresh --- like it was taken just after the murder. To add to that, that certain victim, just like this widow, visited a fortune-teller named _Kerouac_ sometime in the last thirty-six hours of his life."

"Once again, your brilliance astounds me, Danni Quee," their commander praised, beaming at her deduction. While Danni felt like disappearing from where she was sitting out of embarrassment, Arica turned to look at the youngest member of _Moirae_, smiling lightly. "And _that,_ Tahiri Veila, was the point I was trying to imply. I believe that Wohler has something to do with the murders themselves, and I, too, am suspecting him and the seer Kerouac to be one and the same. I want you to confirm those speculations of mine, though --- innocent until proven guilty, as we say. Then, when this is over, we shall deal with the surprising existence of Leia Organa Solo."

The apartment Gerhardus Wohler was staying in was small, old and shabby, yet it was enough for the middle-aged freelance photographer, for he had nothing much to keep in his possession anyway. All he cared for was his camera, and all the pictures he had taken ever since he began his work. In fact, because of his lifestyle, the only part of the room that was ever occupied at a daily basis was his bedroom.

It was ten in the morning, and the sun was once again causing intense heat to spread across the land. Wohler, who had been looking at his collection of pictures for nearly an hour, finally felt the heat and decided to open the window to let the air in. As he did so, he took the opportunity to peer out of his little room, and that was when he saw a young, attractive blond making her way through the busy streets.

He brightened up considerably, not seeing women like her for quite sometime now. True, there were a lot of beautiful dames in the town where he lived, but most --- if not, all --- of them were dressed in shabby robes that did not make them look appealing in any way, and with greased, dirt-stained faces. But the woman he had his deep blue eyes fixed on was different. She was neat and impressive-looking.

To add to his delight, she stopped just below him, in front of the door of his little apartment. Excited to have a guest such as her, the thirty-six year old bachelor rushed down from his bedroom, eager to welcome the visitor in his humble abode. He stopped by the cobweb-tainted wall mirror to fix his hair before he opened the door with a wide, welcoming smile on his face. "Yes, m'lady? How may I be of service to you?"

"Mr. Gerhardus Wohler?" Her voice was strict and cold.

"Y-yes," he stammered, flushing considerably as her emerald eyes pierced through him. He didn't even notice how stern-faced she was, and how nonchalant and indifferent she appeared. All he knew was that she was young _and_ beautiful, and that was all that mattered to the photographer who never had spent time with women like her for a long time. "It is I. Please, c-come in."

He led her inside his unclean living room, obvious in the way the floors did not shine and in the way dust settled on the few pieces of furniture. However, she did not permit him to touch her. Instead of taking the arm he extended, she walked right in, looking around while wrinkling her nose. After a brief period of examination, she whirled around to face the photographer, who closed the door with an inviting smile. "Dana Reich."

"Gerhardus Wohler. Miss Reich, if you like---"

"I know," she cut her off sharply with drastically narrowed eyes, before her lips twisted into a sardonic smile, enjoying the priceless look on the man's features. She wrinkled her nose once again. "Anyway, Mr. Wohler, I'd like to get down to business. I just wanted to inquire if you know someone named Kerouac, as well as his whereabouts."

The question caught Wohler off-guard, just as intended, and his guest clearly noticed the expression that crept up to his face, faint as it was. A second after, however, it was gone --- but the impression that he knew the person mentioned remained on the young woman. "K-kerouac?" he croaked, his features showing mock confusion. "N-no, I haven't heard of him at all, my lady, forgive me."

She nodded curtly. "Very well, then. I shall be going."

"W-wait, Miss Reich!" Wohler interrupted, reaching out to stop her. "May I at least offer you a cup of tea?"

Reich stopped, her hand clamped on the doorknob. "I must refuse, Mr. Wohler, because I do not desire to be acquainted with liars," she pointed out loudly, her voice as steadfast as it was ever since she stepped into the photographer's apartment. She twisted the knob open, opening the door, but before she completely walked out and shut the door, she added, "And it's _Madam, _Mr. Wohler. Madam Reich."

The door slammed shut.

"What?! Kerouac isn't here?!" Tahiri exclaimed in a high-pitched voice of phony panic, shaking her hands as if she had to use the bathroom before the world would come to an end. Her brown-eyed companion, Nadine, chose to wait outside, watching the younger girl's back, as usual. "But I must talk to him! It's an emergency! Can't give me his address or something?! I'll pay as much as you need, just please, let me see him!"

She annoyed the innkeeper, yes, but the man knew that it was the perfect opportunity to earn something more than the usual. He was given strict orders by the seer not to give his address out, but Kerouac never said that he could not _sell_ his address. "Two hundred," he told the fifteen-year-old with a straight face, indicating that he did not want to go around in circles. "And I'll give you his address."

Unsure if she would waste that much money on such a bargain, the blond young woman turned around slightly to glance at her companion --- who nodded curtly even before she could ask her. Tahiri then pulled out a handful of bills from her pocket, counted two hundred, then gave them to the innkeeper shakily, maintaining her façade. "Please, hurry. I need to see him as soon as possible. I'm begging you, sir, I need---"

"Yes, girlie, I'm at it. Just hang on _quietly, _all right?" the innkeeper interrupted in a vexed tone aiming to make the young woman shut her mouth. When Tahiri did not say a word after that, relief surged through the man at the short spell of silence, and taking advantage of it, he took a piece of paper, scribbled the fortune-teller's address, then handed it to his guest without a word.

Tahiri opened her mouth to say thanks, but quickly decided against it, as she saw that the man had more than enough of her prattling. Instead, she turned around and ran out of the inn, putting her act as a girl going through an emergency to a close, and Nadine marching after her shortly after.

Disgust shone through Lachesis' face as she averted her gaze from their target to her comrades, her black-colored combat shoes making a soft sound as she shifted her position. "The man's a perverted freak," she whispered, obviously sickened as she pushed herself closer to the wall to observe his movements without being seen. "He was looking at me as if I was the most interesting thing in the world, and as if he hasn't seen a woman since he was born. Honestly, I nearly lost my composure in abhorrence."

It was already a quarter past nine when the trio headed for Wohler's apartment, taking advantage of the fact that most of the villagers would be asleep the time they arrive at the area, and that the brain of their team would be able to rewire the lampposts to put them off without having to worry about being spotted. They successfully completed the first phase of their plan; it was time for them to infiltrate Wohler's residence and shut his mouth for good.

Clotho started removing her shoes, glad to be rid of them for the rest of the mission. "Up I go," she announced brightly, giving the other two assassins a thumbs up before she moved up using the pipes, as stealthily as she used to do.

Their leader, Atropos, was also at her part of the mission. She unzipped her bodysuit to reveal a short, velvet dress that did not fail to show her curves that would definitely be appealing to the middle-aged photographer. Turning to the older woman, she said, "You stay here and keep watch. Clotho should be right over the bedroom once I get there. You know what to do if anything happens," before she motioned Lachesis to go away by placing her fist on the door.

At that, the twenty-three-year-old nodded in affirmation, sprinting towards the other side of the house and staying there in silence, her back firmly pressed against the wall, in a position ready for anything, from eavesdropping to barging in without an invitation. She heard Atropos knock twice, Wohler scurry to the door to see who would visit him at a particular time of the night, and gasp slightly at the sight of yet another charming young woman. For the photographer, it was his lucky day.

"P-please, come in, m'lady," he invited, which made Lachesis grimace considerably. He said the same words when she went to check up on him earlier that day. Atropos did not say a word as she was escorted inside, but merely nodded at the other's statements; she was once again playing as the charming innocent lady falling into a trap. Unlike a true charming innocent lady falling into a trap, she was very much aware that she was walking into one.

Lachesis strained to hear the conversation that was beginning to take place between the predator and the prey, when her sensitive eyes, exceptionally trained by their commander Arica who gave her the position of a watchman, caught the sound of footsteps, apparently heading towards the apartment. And it wasn't coming from a single set of feet; to her analysis, there were about five men, two of them particularly large, coming her way. Sparing a glance at the rooftop --- where Clotho was stationed, once again hanging upside-down to peer into the target's bedroom without being noticed --- she pulled out six darts from a storage space on her belt, holding three on each hand, and prepared to strike. She wasn't going to take chances.

She crept towards the unexposed side of the apartment to hide, so that if ever they were Wohler's cronies she would be able to attack them by surprise. As the group of five drew closer and closer to the apartment, she heard a gruff voice murmur, "Such fools. Totally unaware that seeing Master Kerouac would seal their fate."

And those words verified the assassin's speculations about their target's strategy. Kerouac, the fortune-teller, would speak of death to his clients, then have them killed through his own set of slayers in less than twenty-four hours in fulfillment to his prophecy. He would then take a picture of the victim, sending copies of it to various newspaper companies under the name Gerhardus Wohler. Since most journalists favored murders as topics to discuss in periodicals, the photographer was paid highly for all his efforts.

Lachesis stole a glance inside the apartment, and saw Atropos succeeding in her plans. The man was trapped in a corner, trembling in fear at the sight that was before him, as the young woman had a pistol aimed at his forehead. The eighteen-year-old usually killed with a sword, as she was extremely skilled at handling one, but she also liked using a pistol, especially the one that was specifically created for her use.

She fired.

The sound made Wohler's henchmen stop in their tracks; then, realizing that it came from their Master's house, they hurried towards it as fast as their legs would carry them, swearing that if something happened to their boss, they were going to make sure he would be avenged. They did not make it to the door, however, for Clotho dropped from the roof and landed on one of men, sending him tumbling on his comrades as she did a back flip that kept her at a suitable distance from her foes. 

"And you're equally unaware that seeing your Master would seal your fate," she taunted, her lips forming a smirk. Seeing that they were regaining their composure, she fell into a fighting stance, unsheathing the two swords that were strapped to her back. They were not as long and as big as the one Atropos usually carried with her, but they were just as effective. "Because _I_ will seal your fate. Looks like the big boys wanna play. Very well, let's play."

She charged, slashing left and right as she tore through the wall of men that planned on fighting her and blocking her assault. Caught by surprise, they were unable to avoid or counter her attack on time, and they fell to the ground, one by one. Their leader, who stood at the last row of their formation --- a muscular man in his late twenties --- managed to take out his sword and block her two blades that were sliding down to slash him in two.

Unfortunately for him, he never got the chance to strike back, or to even taunt the fifteen-year-old for her stupidity. He fell to the ground even before Clotho's blade buried itself through his flesh, three darts pinned on his back. "Sorry, Clotho," Lachesis apologized as she stepped out from the shadows, with two darts on her left hand and one on the right, "but I couldn't let you have all the fun. I didn't want to just be a spectator in this mission, you know."

The younger girl smiled as she put her swords back into their holsters, putting her hands on her hips proudly after she did so. "No worries, Lachesis. We were taught teamwork and cooperation; it would be stupid not to put into application what we have learned, wouldn't it?"

"Smooth," Atropos commented as she came up from behind her comrades, clutching Clotho's new-looking combat shoes --- after all, the fifteen-year-old assassin barely used them. She threw the pair towards the youngest member of their squad, who did not, despite their expectation, put them back on. "Oh well, let's head home. Our mission's accomplished."

---

**Author's Notes:**

I apologize for the mistake I made in the previous chapter. The title's actually in **Latin**, not Old English. This chapter's title, on the other hand is in Old Norse, **deyja**, meaning die. Also, I would like to apologize for the slow pace of this fic. I promise the other characters we all know and love will appear soon, I just don't want to rush things. *smiles*

Anyway, I am extremely flattered by your comments! *blushes* Thanks to **Shai**, **Wolvie**, **Yuriko Oyama aka RaineSolo**, **Vorquellyn**, **Sora Kairi** and **Artemis347**, I'm so glad that you're actually interested in what I've written here! Now to answer your questions! *clears throat* Let's see Mirax isn't originally in the plot, but I'll do my best to squeeze her in. For Luke, I already have something planned for him, but I'm not sure if it'll be desirable. I fear dark force lightning bolts. =s As for Han, Leia and the brothers, I think I should say that you'll just have to wait and see. *winks*

As for the pairings, I still have to decide --- and I'm sure you could help me decide! And to make everyone happy, at least until I get to decide on who Jaina will really end up with, there'll be a little of all three pairings: J/J, J/K and J/Z. Oh and by the way, **Artemis347**, it's not that I don't care about Kyp, he's actually one of my favorite characters, but I didn't ask for the age gap anymore because I got it all figured out through the help of **Shai** and the books. Thank you for your recommendation, too! I'll try to post this there, although I have a history of suddenly disappearing from boards and forums for no reason at all. =/

I also would like to thank **Shai** for pointing out the age gap between Jaina and Zekk, and **Vorquellyn** and** Sora Kairi** for pointing out the age gap between Jaina and Jag. Anyway, I think that's all I have to say for now; if you have any other requests for the characters you want me to put it, feel free to let me know, and I'll try to see what I can do. Or if you simply want to talk to me --- whether you want to convince me to choose a certain pairing or you want me to kill someone off --- IM me at MSN (riddikulus_moony@hotmail.com), Yahoo (ssj_kaz) or AIM (Kazie Moony). Thank you very much once again!


	3. Mederi

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Scarlet Shadows  
© Kaz, 2003

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Chapter Three – Mederi

A woman at her late thirties lay in front of a doctor's clinic, barely alive, her hand clutching her chest that was throbbing painfully. She wanted to see the general practitioner in their village to ask for the medicine that would cure her disease, but she was thrown out of the infirmary as if she was some garbage, all because she was female. "Please… I need… help…" she called out as loud as she could, but no one listened to her anguished pleas. They either pretended that they couldn't see her, or that there was nothing they could do to save her from the clutches of death.

Unable to walk, she crawled towards the clinic once again, desperate to get help. The rough stone pavement scratched her arms, her legs and her face, but she paid no attention to the cuts that appeared on her body. All she wanted was to see a doctor --- was it too much to desire for something like that?

But nobody came to her rescue. Not one of the passers-by did anything to help her, even by just knocking on the door of the clinic and asking the doctor to come out and examine her. They all thought that she deserved to die, a horrible death at that, because she allowed herself to be taken over by the pills she had been taking to sustain herself. And so the suffering woman died without a sound, cold and alone, on a barren street with all her hope vanquished by the townsfolk who refused to lend a hand.

__

He was working in a small but equipment-filled laboratory, holding a medium-sized flask that contained a murky liquid to the light in analysis. Frowning, he set the container down, pulled his stool towards him and sighed, his eyes still fixed on the formula he was working on. He had been at it for days, going through sleepless nights in his attempt to figure it all out, but he didn't progress much, to his annoyance.

"Ravi?" a voice called out from the doorway, and tilting his head to the side slightly, he saw his superior, a bony forty-two-year-old scientist with round eyeglasses, enter the laboratory casually. He smiled upon reaching the table where Ravi was working. "Don't pressure yourself too much, my boy. I don't want you to get sick just because you spent sleepless nights trying to figure the formula out."

The younger man smiled wryly. "Thank you, sir."

Realizing that it was best to leave the talented researcher on his own, the other nodded and turned to leave. He fell short, however, just as soon as he turned around, noticing something peculiar from the young man. "Excuse me, Ravi," he interrupted, making the lad face him and leave his work behind. The scientist's eyes narrowed considerably as he swept his gaze from his subordinate's head to his feet, then he grabbed the researcher by the middle of his robe and tore it open.

Ravi looked terror-stricken; his boss trembled in anger. His cover, to his mortification, had been blown. Since his robes were destroyed when his apartment was set on fire, he had to borrow one of his friend's for him to be able to report to the laboratory. Alas, it was too big for his size, the neckline dropping exceedingly low --- and that made the scientist he was working for notice his cleavage.

And it was because he wasn't actually a man.

"You---" the scientist pointed an accusing finger on her chest, his dark eyes glaring daggers at her. "--- made us honest men believe that you could be trusted! And we trusted you so much that we gave you the most critical project in the entire facility! But no, you turn out to be a woman! A deceitful scum of the street who doesn't deserve to be here, no matter how brilliant you are in what you do!" He pushed her forcefully, knocking her into a pile of crates. "Get out of my sight! Out of here, now!"

"You watch your filthy mouth!" she snarled in return as she pushed herself up, her tone cold and sinister. She then met the scientist's eyes with her fierce green ones that were full of anger and hate, standing up directly in front of her former boss without any hint of fear or hesitation. "You will have your time, that I swear. And when that time comes, you will feel the pain that I am feeling now --- even more!"

As her final act of defiance, she grabbed the solution she had been working on for the last few days, hurled the flask on the wall, and stormed out as the scientist scurried to pick up the pieces of broken glass and wipe away the spilled fluid.

A hand appeared in front of the young woman's face, waving itself up and down in silent interruption. "Danni?"

The twenty-three-year-old jerked, as if snapping out from a terrible dream, which was what was happening, in a way. She was slightly startled upon seeing Tahiri in front of her, sitting on the windowsill with her legs dangling restlessly, but recovered her poise as quickly as she lost it. "Hey, Tahiri," she greeted rather lightly, sounding tired. "Why are you here? Aren't you supposed to be out doing the groceries?"

"It's not my turn today," the younger girl replied, grinning widely as she jumped down from the sill. "It's Nadine's, so I'm free to do what I want until it's time for us to suit up again." Her smile, however, immediately faded as she saw the expression on her friend's face. "What were you thinking about, Danni? You looked… I don't know. Wanna talk about it?"

She closed her emerald eyes, leaning back against her chair; her blond hair gleaming even more as the rays of the sun illuminated her figure that was rather frail compared to that of her comrades, Tahiri and Nadine. "Sorry, Tahiri, but I don't know if I'm ready to talk about it," she admitted, her eyes still shut. "It's… complicated, you see. But once I am, I'll let you know. All right?"

Tahiri wanted to know what was disturbing the other woman badly, but she decided not to press it. She knew her friend too well that she was sure Danni would get irritated if she would persist on discussing the matter. "Sure thing, Danni. Whenever you're ready. Just remember that you're very much welcome to rant or rave about absolutely anything," the fifteen-year-old told her, before she flashed one of her classic smiles and added, "_sis_."

At those words, Danni opened her eyes to look into the ones that belonged to Tahiri, the girl who was the sister she never had, and then, she smiled. The feeling was mutual, after all. "You too, sis," she whispered, opening her arms, and at that, the younger woman rushed to give her a hug. She didn't know how, but she knew that it was something the lass had wanted to do for quite sometime. "You too."

"Your next target is the drug dealer Lazaro Aalto, famous among the underworld folk for his _'miracle remedies'_ and pills for all occasions. It has been rumored that he recently developed a pill that can sustain a person's hunger for a meal or two, which is something the slum-dwellers in the land would want to get their hands on." Arica then handed the newspaper to Nadine, the page with the news about the drug dealer's latest victim already set for them to examine. "That's his latest victim. She died of dehydration. She could've been saved, but unfortunately, we have a lot of prejudiced doctors at present. They refused to examine her."

Tahiri, unable to control her anger --- which was obviously her weakness --- slammed her fist on the table. "Those morons!" she exclaimed in a huff, her eyes flashing dangerously. "What do they really want to happen? All the women in the world to be eliminated? How do they expect to go on without us? They won't have any kids if they won't get themselves attached to women!"

The leader of the assassin trio ignored her. "What I'm wondering about, Aunt Arica," she began rather hesitantly, handing the newspaper to her companion who only got angrier than she already was, "is that… well, why didn't you want Danni to be here? She's the one who knows these stuff --- you know, drugs and medicine and all --- yet you told her to take the day off. Why?"

As soon as Nadine pointed that out, the youngest of the three women present stopped, her green eyes looking at their boss questioningly. Sighing in defeat, Arica sat down across the two and answered, "Because I don't want her personal involvement with Aalto to get in the way. As simple as that. I mean, would I send Tahiri on a mission that involves her friends among the pick-pocketing department? I don't think so."

"So you're saying that Aalto and Danni are friends?"

"I don't think I have the right to tell you that. Not without Danni agreeing that I do, anyway," the redhead replied, shaking her head at what they just asked her. "If you want to know, ask her directly, but I don't think it would be proper that you do it now. She might get suspicious about it. Finish up your mission, then ask her afterwards. That would be the best thing for you to do."

"What about Leia Organa Solo? Any news about her yet?" Nadine probed as her younger companion stood up to get dressed for their next mission. Realizing that their leader had just extended the conversation by opening up another topic, which was not really what they should be worrying about, she sat back down and listened, waiting patiently for the meeting to come to an end. She was eager to slip into her bodysuit once again.

Arica didn't like the topic that was brought up, but there was no reason for her to lie to her nieces. "I went to the police department and arranged to visit Han Solo, her husband, who was sentenced to life imprisonment because he supposedly murdered her. Supposedly because I don't believe it; I knew the man personally." She leaned back against her chair, crossing one leg over the other casually. "As for the mental ward, I still have to check it out myself. After all, I'm the only one among us four who knows how she looks like."

"You're leaving without me?"

Those words made Tahiri stop short in her tracks, obviously surprised that she was spotted no matter how hard she tried to make her departure unseen. She knew, too, that there was no way out for her --- not when she was wearing her bodysuit _and_ shoes, and she was gripping her mask tightly with her two gloved hands. "Um, well," she began, unsure of how she was going to tell her _'sister'_ that she and Nadine were going on a mission without her, "I gotta do some spying. Our target's somewhat a toughie."

Danni raised an eyebrow, suspicious about the way Tahiri was acting. "Who's the target?" she pressed, part of her mad that she wasn't informed about their next mission. She was supposed to be part of the group, not just the brain who they wouldn't have to take along if the success of their next assignment would depend on their ability to fight. _I can fight too!_ she added to herself, upset that they were underestimating her.

The younger blond woman opened her mouth to answer, but she could not find the voice nor the words to do so. However, that was when a cold voice answered from one corner of the room, "Lazaro Aalto, a drug dealer. Aunt Arica ordered that we shouldn't take you because your personal involvement with him might endanger the mission." Nadine looked up, her brown eyes stern, like the leader she was. "We don't want that to happen, do we?"

The courtesan's answer made Danni grit her teeth, her hands clenched into fists at her sides. She wasn't sure, however, what caused her to be as furious as she was --- her grudge against Aalto, the man who corrupted her and brought the weight of guilt upon her shoulders; or the fact that they didn't trust her because of her involvement with him. But she knew that either choice was something to be mad at.

Sensing that the person responsible for assigning the matter had come up from behind her, she immediately asked in a steely voice that they've never heard her use before, "So you don't trust me? You're afraid that I'm going to go out of control in anger, and kill him by slicing his head off with a triumphant laugh that I've finally accomplished what I promised to accomplish?" She turned around to face Arica, her green eyes glowing with ire. "Isn't that what _Moirae_ is for? Revenge? To kill?"

Arica's answer was soft, simple and direct. "I don't want your past to destroy you."

There was confusion in Danni's face, despite all the anger that she was feeling. Realizing that it was the best time to explain her intentions, the older woman continued, "You've managed to stand back up on your feet, after all the harsh and frustrating times you went through." She took a step forward. "You disguised yourself as a man in your desire to work in one of the Solos' research institutes, but it didn't take long before your cover was blown. When you were thrown out, Aalto took the opportunity to use your frustration and talent for his benefit --- and for your disadvantage. I see the pain brought about by your guilt shining through your eyes even in the midst of day, and I know that making you cross paths with Aalto again will only make things worse. This time, he might successfully destroy you, either by killing you, or bringing you back into the life that nearly ruined your very being, corrupting you like he did before."

Although hesitant, Tahiri did not want to let the opportunity of knowing the truth pass. She walked up to her friend, looked at her in the eye, green meeting green, then asked, "How are you involved with Aalto, Danni? I know it may be complicated, but please, tell me. I want to know. No, I _need_ to know."

The older woman looked away, trying to avoid the fifteen-year-old's piercing gaze, but she knew that she would have to tell her all about it eventually. She swallowed, her eyes beginning to sting as she envisioned Tahiri's probable reaction to her confession. The teenager was going to hate her for sure, not only for lying to her about the past, but for causing the deaths of so many innocent people --- even women and children --- as a result of her accomplishment. "Tahiri Veila…" the young researcher began, turning away from her comrade and taking a deep breath that would give her the strength to continue, "… I made drugs for Lazaro Aalto."

She did not see the look of disbelief that swept the teenager's features, but she surely felt the drastic change in her composure. "You _what?!_" Tahiri half-screamed, her voice heavily strained. She then grabbed Danni, whirling her around so that they would once again be facing each other. The older of the two had tears falling out of her innocent-looking verdant eyes, making the anger in the other woman disappear, like it never existed.

Then, she flung her arms around the woman she considered her sister, understanding and acceptance prevailing above all her other emotions. "Oh, Danni! It wasn't your fault! Aalto made you do it!" the teenager exclaimed, tears coming out from the corners of her eyes as well. Pulling away, she added with much conviction, "I promise, sis, cross my heart and hope to die, that I'm gonna kill him for you! I won't let him get away with what he did to you --- God, the horror of it all!"

Her nose catching a strange, rather unpleasant scent, Atropos pulled herself away from the light and examined the large box that was keeping her hidden from the eyes of their target and his business associates. She watched out for anything that would be able to tell her the contents of the crate without having to wreck it and give themselves away, and despite the dim light, she almost immediately spotted the word _Sustein_ hastily written on one side.

She turned her head to the side casually, motioning to Clotho that she found what they were looking for. She was about to go back to her observation of the target, Lazaro Aalto, when the younger assassin held out a piece of paper just enough for her to see. Written in the same handwriting she identified were the words _Ship: 0000_.

Atropos bit her lip. There were so many possibilities about the meaning of it, although she concluded that it had something to do with a ship or the drugs being shipped, as the drug dealer's hideout was in one of the port's storehouses. She nodded towards Clotho's direction, a sign that she got the clue, and moved even closer towards the front row of wooden crates to eavesdrop on the conversation that was going on.

"However, gentlemen," Aalto was saying, grinning wide enough to expose a few blackened teeth that made him look even more obscene than he already was, "that wasn't the best part yet of tonight's auction. True, I've presented very useful and profit-gaining miracle remedies for you to bring home, but I still have to introduce the best offer I have for all of you." He took out his watch, a golden timer with a thin chain that attached it to his belt, and nodded thoughtfully. "She should be here a few minutes from now, and we'll get this auction done with in time to ship all these lovely medicine boxes."

__

She? Clotho mouthed from the opposite side of the warehouse, confused at what the businessman was talking about. Her comrade, however, didn't know what Aalto was talking about either. Taking a deep breath, the fifteen-year-old sorted out her thoughts --- Aalto was going to bring in someone to auction, and he was going to ship the drugs really soon. She and Atropos did not only have to things to prevent, their mission to eliminate the drug dealer remained.

Crawling even closer, hoping that her luck won't run on her, Clotho suddenly spotted the piece of paper she found earlier a short distance away from her. And as she observed the characters written on it, she realized that Aalto had just helped them figure out the meaning of the mysterious note: the drugs were going to be _shipped_ at _00:00_, or at twelve o'clock --- midnight.

Her plan to tell her superior about what she discovered, however, was thwarted as she heard the door of the warehouse creak open, followed by the sound of a body being thrown against the cold floor. Moving as close to the light as possible to check who the unfortunate captive was, she found herself not believing her eyes --- for the hostage was their friend Danni Quee, bound and gagged in front of the man who almost destroyed everything that she was just a few years ago.

"And this, gentlemen, is the best part of tonight's auction," the drug dealer sneered and sniggered, making the young woman glare at him with impotent fury. "My last offer --- Danni Quee, my former employee, who created most, if not all, of the top-selling formulas in my possession. Not only is she extremely intelligent, with an IQ higher than the top researches in the Solos' many institutes… she practically has a body to die for. At the end of the day, you'll just have to take her in bed and refresh her for her work on the morrow."

Clotho was about to launch herself at their enemies and kill them all for hurting the person she considered her sister, when Atropos pulled her back, her eyes glaring at the younger woman powerfully. "Think before you act, Clotho," she reprimanded in a voice barely above a whisper, yet fierce enough to make her point clear, "Do you think Lachesis is dumb and weak enough to get captured just like that? Remember what she told Aunt Arica; she promised Aalto that she was going to kill him. And what would be better than to appear as a helpless hostage?"

The younger of the two glared back, not satisfied with her comrade's explanation. "You don't understand, Atropos. I promised her that I was going to kill Aalto for what he did to her. And I intend to keep that promise." Her blazing green eyes then softened, as well as the tone of her voice. "When Aunt Arica said that she didn't want Lachesis' past to destroy her, I believe what she wanted to imply was that… well, that if Lachesis would kill Aalto herself, her recovery would mean nothing. _That_, as a product of her past, would destroy her."

She then shifted her position, crouching and putting a hand on one of her swords in preparation for her assault. "I don't know about you, Atropos," she whispered, waiting for the perfect opportunity to strike, "but I'm not going to let that happen. Just like Aunt Arica, I don't want her past to destroy her."

And that said, Clotho charged.

Taken by surprise, the drug dealer and his associates were unable to do anything to defend themselves from the assassin that rushed to them head-on. Clotho slashed and parried in a frenzy, determined not to let them get away with their heinous plans --- Aalto, most especially. To add to the surprise brought about by her sudden assault, explosions caused by the bombs she and Atropos planted by the crates began to rock the warehouse, making the men panic even more.

Quee saw the effect of the sudden attack, and decided that it was time for her to complete her revenge. Freeing herself from the loose ropes that bound her hands, pulling off her gag and taking out a dagger that she carefully hid under her skirt, she sprinted after Aalto, who was on a dead run by then. She didn't care if the uniform she was wearing --- she was a waitress in the _Feu de Joie_, after all --- would get stained by blood; all she wanted was to kill the man who corrupted her with her own hands. "Aalto!" she called out, lifting one hand as she prepared for the final blow that would put an end to the entire ordeal, "As I promised!"

In the blink of an eye, the drug dealer stumbled, eventually falling backwards to reveal a large slash wound on his torso. Standing in front of Quee and the exanimate Aalto was Atropos, her sword dripping with blood. The two women looked at each other's eyes for a few moments, the older of the two quivering in anger as her revenge was foiled by her own comrade, when the teenager held out her gloved palm, not wanting the other to say a word. "I didn't want your revenge, as a product of your past, to destroy you. Besides, his blood isn't worthy enough for you to get yourself dirtied with. He's nothing but a lying, cheating scum."

At that, Atropos sheathed her sword, then turned around and walked away. Their mission was accomplished after all. On the other hand, Quee stared at the drug dealer's corpse for a few more moments, taking in the explanation of her fellow party member, before she averted her gaze to the door where her friend disappeared in and hurried after her. "Atropos, wait!" Quee half-shouted, in hopes that the black-clad figure would stop and turn to look at her before they would make it out of the abandoned depot. 

To her relief, the assassin leader did so, pulling her mask off to regard her not as a comrade in a mission, but as a friend. At that, the blond young woman smiled, her emerald eyes expressing her deepest gratitude. After all, the brunette practically saved her life, just not in the manner she expected her to eventually do. "Thanks." 

---

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Author's Notes: 

This chapter's title is in Latin once again, **mederi **meaning heal. It basically implies to Danni's "recovery" or "healing" from the wounds of her past. So anyway, there'll be lots of fun in the **next chapter**, that I promise, because the other characters will already appear, like the Solo brothers and Kyp! Once again, I would like to thank those who reviewed: **Shai**, **Elda Aranel**, **Wolvie** and **Fire Princess** (Of course I know who you are! *giggles*), as well as those in the **Jedi Council** at theForce.Net  who were so kind to read and comment on my work. Thank you!

As always, I'm still debating on the Jaina pairing, so please do not be mad or anything if she gets to meet the guys you don't want her to end up with. As I mentioned, she will cross paths with all three of them, so please don't flame me if you don't get what you want right away. Okies? *thumbs up*

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Shai: I don't know, but I'm tremendously fond of Author's Notes. I feel that it's a good way to let the readers know they're heard and that I'm taking their concerns into consideration. And thank you for your compliments; you write wonderful yourself! I know you just updated, but I'd love to read another chapter of In Your Arms soon!

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Elda Aranel: I can't assure that it will be J/Z in the end, but I promise they will have their turn somewhere in the story. Thank you for your kind words; it's good to know that someone appreciates my insanity. =P

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Wolvie: Nah, you're just too humble! Your first fic washed me away, cuz it was so good! And I'm sure you'll do really great if you'll write your own version of X3! I'll be looking forward to that, just like all your other fics. Thanks for everything!

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Fire Princess: Anahiri action in the next chapter, sis! And it'll only be the beginning! Oh yes, in the name of Ju**o and his orange shoes, all right! *laughs* But what about _your_ Anakin? Hehe, just kidding. Innocent bystanders rule!

Until next time! ^___^


	4. Impressionis

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Scarlet Shadows  
© Kaz, 2003

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Chapter Four – Impressionis

For the first time ever since the establishment of the assassin group _Moirae_, the three ladies went to the marketplace to buy groceries _together_. In midst of their formation was Danni, smiling and laughing as if there was nothing in the world that could take away her happiness. She had explained to them when they regrouped back at their headquarters the night before that she had been keeping a close eye on Aalto, in search for the right time to execute her revenge, and afterwards, she had thrown the topic away as if it was nothing important.

"Next time, all for one, one for all, all right?" Tahiri proposed, grinning smugly at her two companions. "No matter what the mission is, we have to all be there to execute it." That earning an enthusiastically affirmative reply, she added, "And we gotta work on our strategies and battle tactics! I don't mean the infiltration phase and all --- I mean the _fighting_ phase. You should upgrade your weapon, Danni. Learn to use a close-range one or something."

A chuckle escaped Nadine's lips. "Well, Tahiri, I think I could let you be the leader for a few minutes," she teased, her brown eyes glittering, showing how pleased she was that the three of them finally formed the bond their Aunt Arica long wanted them to have. She lowered her voice, however. "But let's talk about this when we get back; we don't want to arise suspicion, do we?"

Taking the cue, the twenty-three-year-old immediately changed the topic of their conversation. "I got the list here," she said, reaching into the pocket of her skirt to pull out a brown parchment scribbled with the things they were supposed to get for the upcoming meals. She then handed it to Nadine. "Mostly vegetables, a few fruits, and some kilos of meat. Fish and poultry, too. Maybe we should split up in getting all these so we can get back earlier?"

"I'll get the veggies," Tahiri volunteered. "And the fruits, too."

"Nadine?"

"The meat. Danni, why don't we go together?" the eighteen-year-old suggested, glancing slightly at the younger blond woman to ask her permission. When Tahiri nodded in approval, she turned back to Danni and continued, "We can then get the fish and chicken as well. I mean… well, I've never been here with you in my whole life, and I just wanted to take the opportunity. That is, if you won't mind, of course."

Danni brightened considerably at that invitation. "Of course I'd love to go with you, Nadine!" she exclaimed, before one of her eyelids dropped for a wink. She then looked at Tahiri, who she was afraid to leave behind, but she only raised a thumb up for approval. Seeing that there was nothing to worry about, she bid the younger blond woman a temporary farewell, then pulled the other teenager towards one corner of the marketplace, where they were supposed to go, excitedly.

With somewhat jealous green eyes, the fifteen-year-old watched the two women disappear into an intersection, taking a sharp right turn that completely drove them away from her line of sight. True, she was glad that they were bonding, but the thought of her sister going with someone else _and_ leaving her behind made her slightly upset. After all, they just agreed a few moments back that from that time on, they were going to do things --- missions, most especially --- with the _'all for one, one for all'_ principle.

Sighing, she turned around to finish her assigned task…

… only to bump into a young man who obviously wasn't aware of where he was going.

The impact sent the two teenagers on the pavement, one on top of the other, him on top of her. Tahiri was very much ready to kick him on the shins for his recklessness and rudeness, but when he slightly pushed himself up --- just enough for his face to be exposed without him actually getting off her --- she found herself unable to move, and almost unable to breathe. Her verdant eyes were locked on to his cerulean ones, then moved down to examine the stranger until the very tip of his feet. He was tall, gangly and broad-shouldered, but to the fifteen-year-old, he was one of the two most handsome men she had ever seen in her lifetime. The other, she recalled with a giggle, was Ganner Rhysode, the annoying son of the fruits vendor she had been buying products from ever since she started working in the _Feu de Joie_.

Her giggle did not go unnoticed, however, as the boy was looking at her curiously. She shook her head in answer, and realizing that there was no way she would tell him what she was thinking of, he rose to his feet and pulled her up, careful not to hurt her any more than he already did. He then flashed her a smile, which did not go unnoticed as well. "I'm Anakin," he introduced, sticking his hand out for her to shake. He was careful not to say his last name, however, because the Solos had the reputation of being women-haters despite the fact that they actually weren't. At least, he and his brother, Jacen, weren't.

Unfortunately, his name rang a bell inside Tahiri's mind, and almost immediately after recognizing it, she felt her blood boil. The young _Solo_ actually had the guts to knock her down, pull her up and introduce himself coolly?! She did not take his hand; instead, the look of admiration in her eyes hardened into a glare. "I know you, all right," she spat, hands on her hips. "And if you think that my opinion of you would change because you knocked me down and helped me back up on my feet, think again."

That said, she whirled around abruptly and headed towards the fruits section of the marketplace, her chin tilted in an arrogant fashion. However, the lopsided grin on Anakin's face did not melt away, especially when he noticed that she was walking around on bare feet. Chuckling lightly, he continued to watch her until she disappeared from his view, a part of his mind determinedly set on finding out who the blond young woman was.

His expression must've been as clear as day, for the middle-aged vendor who owned the stall just on the other side of the street interrupted Anakin by saying, "That was Tahiri Veila. She's a courtesan at the _Feu de Joie_." He then smiled as the seventeen-year-old turned to look at him, interested at what was just mentioned. From the look on his youthful face, he certainly wanted to learn more. "She's one of the most wanted women there. You should go check out the club sometime, especially if you want to get to know her better. She usually sizzles on Friday nights."

Anakin found his grin impossible to contain. _Tomorrow's Friday._

Tahiri cursed under her breath as she tore through the crowd that flocked in the marketplace, irritated by the thought that Anakin was so handsome, she couldn't stop thinking of him. Even when she saw Ganner, who was flashing a smile left and right as his way of greeting every woman who came up to their tiny stall, the face that flashed on her mind belonged to the hotshot who knocked her down earlier. She had definitely decided, although unconsciously, who was the winner between the two finalists in her competition.

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But he's a Solo! she reminded herself angrily, her emotions slipping through her eyes without warning. The anger that radiated from her made Ganner back off considerably, surprising him --- and surprising her. "S-sorry, Ganner," she quickly apologized, hoping nobody else was affected by her silent outburst. Fortunately, no one was. "I'm just upset about a few things, that's all."

He winked. "How about if we hang out and have fun?"

"Ganner!" Tahiri exclaimed in a warning tone, her green eyes narrowing considerably at what he was doing. He looked disappointed; she defeated him again, refusing his advances, which she hadn't really figured out to be friendly or something more than friendly. She then rummaged through her pockets for the list of fruits she had to get, and finding it, she pulled it out and thrust it to Ganner's palm. "On the double, if you don't mind."

Another wink, and that time, she could not stop herself from scowling. Smiling inwardly at the young woman's temper, Ganner proceeded to prepare her order, whistling a happy tune as he did so. On the other hand, Tahiri chose to sit on the stall's flat board, waiting rather impatiently for him to finish. She wanted to leave the marketplace as soon as possible, because she had the feeling that there was a very big possibility of her bumping into Anakin again --- and she wasn't sure how she would react the second time around.

"But we promised each other, Aunt Arica. We can't leave Tahiri out of this," Nadine stated in objection to their commander's plans to send only her and Danni on their next mission, which was to eliminate Xenakis, the leader of a notorious thief gang whose base had just been discovered. "Besides, I'm sure she'd love to act as the helpless hostage this time. Danni had fun when it was her turn."

Arica opened her mouth to object, but the two ladies countered her before she could say anything. Then, she sighed, giving in to her defeat. If the three of them wanted to go, then she had no choice but to let them go. "All right, take Tahiri with you," she told them as she leaned back against her chair, still maintaining her superiority despite the fact that her subordinates talked her into her decision. "But you have to promise me that there'll be no take two in your mission. Strike once, and strike hard."

The two rose from their seats and saluted. "Aye, aye, sir!"

Green eyes shimmering with amusement, the redhead motioned them to leave, wishing them good luck as they did so. Enthusiastic that they were, once again, on a mission together, they hurried to tell Tahiri to suit up, when they found her staring into empty space inside her quarters. The two looked at each other quizzically, wondering what was bothering the youngest member of their squad, when Nadine noticed the strange look in Tahiri's emerald eyes.

"It's about a guy, isn't it?" the eighteen-year-old asked, leaning forward to tease the younger girl, a few strands of her brown hair falling past her eyes as she did so. When Tahiri flinched and scowled, the brunette laughed, before she patted her friend on the back and moved towards the closet to pull out the other's bodysuit and combat shoes. "Time for you to suit up, girlie. Think about your Mr. Perfect later."

"I'm _not_ thinking about a guy, for your information," Tahiri objected, her scowl deepening. Fortunately for her, the other two members of their assassin trio did not realize that she was lying, because ever since that incident in the marketplace, she couldn't stop thinking about Anakin. Putting up her best nonchalant façade, she got up and grabbed her gear from their leader's clutches. "Let me guess. We're going after Xenakis, and Aunt Arica didn't want me to go with you, but you convinced her otherwise. Am I right?"

The older blond woman nodded. "Very accurate and well said," she praised with a smile, settling herself down at the foot of the other's bed. "You're getting really good at this _'figuring out'_ stuff. So… wanna talk about the revisions in our battle strategy that you suggested back in the marketplace?"

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Wrong cue word, Danni. The fifteen-year-old almost scowled, but decided not to as it would only give her away. Instead, she called the other two to her dressing table, and positioned a couple of cosmetics to serve as her visual aids. "Okay, so this is basically the main frame of Xenakis' hideout; at least, that was how it used to be. He's not the type who likes to change formations, so we can expect a fairly high possibility of this formation being retained." She pointed to the far end of the arrangement. "We're going to enter from there and knock down a few stuff, but I want you to drop down so the sentry will only notice me."

"Then you get captured, brought to Xenakis and we follow stealthily from behind, then we'll catch everyone by surprise," Nadine finished, before her eyes narrowed considerably. "We've used that tactic time and again, Tahiri. Are you sure that's going to work on your pickpocketing friends?"

"It _should_ work," she answered, a stubborn look on her pale features. She then shifted her position slightly to address the two, a smile on her face. "However, Xenakis has this other way of dealing with former companions, I just don't know if he still applies it now. It's some sort of tournament, a battle to the death, his best warriors against his captive. In that case, me. So if he moves on with that, then I'm afraid you gotta leave the knocking down to me."

Concern was the emotion on Danni's face, and it was something that they all sensed without even staring at her intently. "Tahiri," the twenty-three-year-old began quietly, pointing out the tiny detail they had missed while going through the plan. "You won't have a weapon by then. If ever you'll get to smuggle one inside your clothes, they'll definitely know where to look. They know you. And they definitely won't let you in without disarming you."

A cocky grin surfaced on the younger blond's face instead. "Come on, Danni," Tahiri began confidently, before she pointed a thumb to herself. "_I_ know them. I'll know where they're going to look. And I'm going to hide my stuff where they won't find it." She then grabbed her two short swords and tossed them to Danni, who almost didn't catch it out of her surprise. "And that was why I told you that you should learn how to use a close-range weapon. We're going to switch today; I'll have the projectiles, you'll have those two."

The older woman was about to object, but Nadine put a hand on her shoulder, indicating that she stop. "I know you're concerned, Danni, but I'm sure Tahiri knows what she's doing," their leader voiced out, smiling at the two ladies. "She knows Xenakis very well; after all, she spent years with him. If there's anyone who knows how to get past his defenses and wipe him out from the face of this world, it's her. Besides, if things get nasty, we can always jump into action. Why make this a suicide mission?"

"All right, all right," Danni conceded, raising her arms up in surrender. At her friends' laughter, she lowered her arms and reached out for a few of the darts she had laid out on the table for Tahiri's use. "But I'm not taking chances. I'm taking these with me, whether you like it or not." Then, she grinned, indicating that she, like the other two members of _Moirae_, was more than ready to get going.

Restlessness was one of the many traits seventeen-year-old Anakin Solo could not separate from himself, no matter how hard he would try to stay as still as possible, especially when he would be attending a political meeting on his father's behalf. Like all other young men in the Republic of Corellia, he longed for adventure and battle, not diplomacy and politics, which he was forced to indulge in despite his lack of interest and enthusiasm.

The elections were drawing near, only a few weeks away, and his father's party decided to hold a meeting to finalize everything they had planned. However, Han Solo was a busy man, utterly dedicated into serving the people who continued to persecute him, and because of his apparent lack of time, he sent his sons to attend the gathering instead. That, however, did not matter to his associates, because the Solo brothers were as competent as he was, especially eighteen-year-old Jacen, who was wise beyond his years.

To the older brother's disappointment, however, Anakin seemed even more detached than he normally was. He didn't only toy around with whatever he could get his hands on; he toyed around while staring into empty space. It bothered Jacen greatly, but he knew that there were more pressing matters at hand than what was distracting his brother, and that was what he was supposed to attend to first. "I have to agree with all of you, gentlemen. After all, Bel Iblis has begun his extensive and rather… _expensive_ campaign."

"You really know your stuff, Jacen Solo," one of the higher members of the party praised, and the young man did not have to look towards the direction of the voice to know who it was. From the tone of the voice alone, he identified the speaker to be Kyp Durron, a thirty-two-year-old Senator who was running alongside his father as Vice President. He leaned forward, resting his chin on his hand, his eyes peering into Jacen's own. "I'm impressed."

Jacen opened his mouth to react to the compliment when the only female member of their party, Viqi Shesh, opened a new topic. Like the only other woman who was bold enough to join the Senate in the history of the world --- Mara Skywalker, who was killed three years ago --- Viqi was a straightforward and firm politician who ignored the way she was treated by her peers just to speak on the women's behalf. It was rumored, however, that she was running for Senator because her fiancé, Han, promised to secure her the position in exchange for her commitment to him as a wife, and that there was more to her than her desire to crush the oppressors of her kind.

"Does anybody know about the assassin group I've been hearing about recently?" she questioned, sweeping her gaze from one politician to another. She then shifted her position to a more comfortable one. "Because I have the bad feeling that they are working for one of our enemies, aiming to eventually crush us, as we pose the biggest threat to all the other parties. And since Jacen mentioned that Bel Iblis is having quite an expensive campaign, his budget might include assassin fees as well."

Her statement caused a wave of murmur to rise in the room, which Jacen and Kyp tried to supress as soon as it brewed. But their companions would not listen to them, as the female politician's remark not only opened the topic about assassins, which everyone seemed to be very interested in, it also opened the topic about the possibility of Garm Bel Iblis, Han's greatest rival, being the man behind all the murders.

For the first time since the meeting began, Anakin looked up from the piece of paper he was toying with to gaze into his older brother's eyes, as if relaying a message that only they would understand. Then, Jacen looked away from his brother, fixed his eyes on Kyp --- who was sitting across him rather comfortably --- and tried to relay the same message. The running Vice President, who was expected to give an answer, swept his gaze around him to make sure that everyone's attention was on something else, then mouthed, _Wait for Jag._

Both Solos nodded.

"Please, gentlemen," Kyp said in a loud voice as he rose up, then upon feeling Viqi's hard gaze on him, added, "and a lady…" with a smile. He cleared his throat, then continued, "This is not the time to worry about those assassins. Han assured that we'll all be safe from their hands; the least we can do is trust his word by not panicking. Let us go about with our daily businesses and campaigns, and do our best to win the hearts of the people. With that, I believe there is nothing left for us to discuss for today." He looked at everyone one last time. "The meeting is adjourned."

As the diplomats filed out of the room, Viqi keeping a safe distance behind them, the running Vice President called the Solo brothers over for a private discussion. He sat down on one of the tables, crossing his arms in front of his chest as his eyes narrowed considerably. "I'm not actually worried about their capabilities; I'm very much confident in ours, but I don't want to take chances. You may go, but make sure Jag is with you. No solo missions until I'm sure who we're up against --- pun _intended_," he emphasized as Jacen and Anakin exchanged meaningful glances regarding their original plan to try to capture the assassins on their own.

The younger of the two sighed in defeat, knowing that despite his stubbornness and Jacen's skill in diplomacy, they would never be able to convince Kyp to change his mind. At that, he took up a mocking salute, which did not go unnoticed by the Senator. However, the thirty-two-year-old only smiled as Anakin said, "You're the boss."

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Author's Notes: 

This chapter's title is in Latin, **impressionis **meaning impression. For some reason I'm just fond of using foreign languages for either a title of a fic/story or chapter titles. Yes, I know I'm crazy. Also, I tweaked up everyone's relationships, because I didn't know how to make things fit in. Don't worry, I _will _try to make things as reasonable as possible. And I didn't want to bring Viqi in, but hey, this story needs more villains. What would be better than to bring out one from the oppressed gender?

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Shai: Jacen and Danni will meet most probably in Chapter Six. I already have an idea on how I will do it, but I'm still not quite too sure if I should move on with it, or think of another. As for Luke… that's something I'm still debating about. It's a pretty hard choice, actually. Anyway, thanks for your nice words! But as I told you the other day, you're _too_ humble! =P

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Lynx and Vader: Thanks! Glad you like it!

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Firey: Sure, no worries. Thanks for reading.

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Gwendolyn Rogan: Hey, Gwen! I wanted to email you, but your address wasn't in your bio. First off, thank you for reading and reviewing. Your comments are really inspiring. And now, for your questions… yes, this is going to progress beyond the killing of men. I myself think it would be so boring to just kill men one chapter after the other, but I had to start off with it to build the story's foundation. Don't worry, I already started making things complicated, and more hints will follow. As for the three girls becoming assassins, I hate to say this, but you'll have to wait and see. But if you really want to know, feel free to IM me and talk about it. I love giving out spoilers, but only to those who don't mind being spoiled. *smiles*

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Fire Princess: Innocent bystanders beware! *dances* And there you have it, sis, as I promised: Anahiri action. Remember the memorable "impossible to contain" from the sneak preview? Whee.

Thanks everyone!


	5. Theof

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Scarlet Shadows  
© Kaz, 2003

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Chapter Five – Theof

Xenakis' underground hideout had more or less the same framework as what Clotho had predicted, although the gang leader obviously made a few revisions. But their knowledge was enough for them to plan out their assault, spreading out on both sides to cover a larger area. As Lachesis stealthily made her way towards the eastern wing, ducking all the way as she was tall enough to tower above the frontier and get spotted by their adversaries, Atropos hurried to the west, not having to worry about being seen, as the walls were high enough to cover her.

When her comrades were secure in their hiding places, the youngest member of _Moirae_ prepared for the show she was going to participate in, double-checking if her weapons were carefully concealed. Taking a deep breath, she pulled off her mask, tucked it inside one of the many secret compartments of her bodysuit, pushed back the stray locks of her blond hair behind her ear, and kicked one of the boulders that were close to where she was standing, sending it down towards the bottom of the pit of sand and stone.

Immediately, the gruff-looking guards looked up and found nothing but blond strands of hair sticking out from behind a boulder, and that was enough for them to charge, their weapons at hand. Tahiri Veila fought back, but only enough to disarm her opponents. As soon as their weapons flew away from their hands, she pretended to lose, and was doing an excellent job at posing as a damsel in distress. "Let me go!" she screamed, continuing with her act by struggling to get away from her captors' grip. "Where are you taking me, you scums?!"

"To Lord Xenakis," they chorused in a low, almost lifeless tone, and that was enough for the fifteen-year-old. She stopped struggling, allowing the gang leader's cronies to bring her to wherever their boss was, but she still kept her guard up. She didn't want to take any chances, most especially now that she was weaponless. She allowed a glance towards one of the walls, and found Atropos peeking through. Good. They were still secure.

Upon reverting her gaze to what lay ahead of her, she realized that she was standing at the rim of a large arena, only that it was deep and hollow instead of high and elevated. Sitting on a large chair that was made to look like an extravagant throne right across her, was their target: Xenakis. He was a huge man, short in height but obese, with a round face like an over-inflated balloon, small and beady eyes, and a goatee instead of hair on his shiny head.

"Well, well. Look who decided to come home," he began with a twisted smile, not bothering to stand from his gigantic throne. He waved a pudgy hand, and two of his warriors moved over to Tahiri to bind her hands together behind her back. Afterwards, he smiled even more, his yellowish teeth showing through. "You know, Butterfly, I was hoping you'd come home sooner, but you made me wait for a long, long time. And I grew tired of waiting so I decided to just forget all about you. Tsk, tsk. And now you're back. Well, I can always make your death count."

"By entertaining you in this ridiculous battle dome you built?"

"But of course! I see you still know how things work around here, I'm impressed. But I'm impressed not only because of that, dear, but most especially because of your astounding influence on others. How many members of our crew ran off after you did? A short while after your disappearance, Zekk stalked away, never to return. He was then joined by Raynar and Eryl, who we luckily managed to drag back here and feed to the lions," Xenakis said, then his eyes brightened considerably, an idea striking him. "That's it! I shall feed you to the lions as well! Let's see how you'll fare now, Tahiri Veila."

The look on the young woman's face was that of confidence. When their Aunt Arica rescued her three years ago, the so-called _'lions'_ they fought against were but five gang members who Xenakis considered to be the best of his squad. With three years worth of training, she was sure that she would defeat them without having to pull out the weapons she had hidden all over her bodysuit. She even felt that she could knock them all down with her eyes closed; although she reminded herself just in time not to take chances. That had always been her mistake.

Xenakis stood up, although he had a particularly hard time in doing so, and spread his arms out, a menacing grin on his oversized face. "Too bad only these lucky few will witness the downfall of the legendary Butterfly," he taunted, a mischievous glimmer shining through his eyes, "but I'm sure it will be entertaining despite of the absence of cheers and howls, nonetheless. You see, Tahiri, I've made a few changes over the years. I learned from my mistakes, and made the necessary revisions. You will not get away this time."

A roar reverberated inside the chamber, and Tahiri's blood ran cold.

"Got a minute, Jace?"

Jacen Solo looked up from the documents he was analyzing, blinking repeatedly to clear his vision, as it grew hazy from all the staring he did the past half-hour. His brother, seventeen-year-old Anakin, was standing in front of his desk, the expression on his face unreadable, much to the older Solo's disappointment. He wanted to know what he was getting in to before saying yes, but it looked like he didn't have much of a choice on that matter. "Sure, 'Kin," he conceded. "Sit down."

The younger boy could not stop himself from chuckling as he took his seat. "You're starting to act a lot like Dad," he teased, amused at the way Jacen carried himself, as he appeared like a true diplomat. He then leaned forward, lowering his voice. "I actually came to ask you a favor. It's not much, but still… I don't know if you'll agree to it, knowing you."

"Well, what is it?" Jacen asked, filing the papers on his desk and putting them away, tucking them inside one of the drawers of his wooden table. He then clasped his hands together --- a mannerism he developed from hanging too much with other politicians through the years --- and waited for his brother to explain the favor he wanted to ask. If there was anyone who would be patient enough to listen to a raving criminal and still understand his point of view, that would be the eighteen-year-old aspiring politician.

"I was just wondering if you would be so nice to accompany me to the _Feu de Joie_ tomorrow."

As the younger Solo expected, one of his brother's brown-colored eyebrows went up apprehensively, a hint of disbelief in his handsome features. Jacen stared, trying to see if the other was plainly joking, but found that the speaker was dead serious. His brother, the renowned mechanical genius Anakin Solo, wanted to go to a _nightclub_ and play with women who sold their love to men?! It didn't seem right for the eighteen-year-old, but he had the feeling that it was another one of his little brother's _'adventures'_ in the vast land of Corellia. However, he just could not help but ask, "Are you serious?"

The boy's blue eyes were serious-looking, all right, but Jacen could feel that he was still hiding something. "Yes, big brother, I'm very serious about this," Anakin answered, then quickly added, "But it's not what you think! There's just this girl I met at the marketplace, and I was told she works at the _Feu de Joie_ on Fridays. I just want to apologize to her because I upset her today. You know how easily I get depressed due to guilt. Please, Jace? I don't ask favors very often."

"All right, all right, I'll go," Jacen said with a sigh, defeated. "I don't have much of a choice anyway."

It had taken much of Arica Jade's temper to acquire permission to visit Thrackan Sal-Solo in his prison cell at the military stronghold of Corellia, and it was evident in the way she ignored the guards who led her towards the man's private spot in the detention house. They threw one insult after the other at her, yet she only kept herself quiet, silently urging herself not to give in to her anger and kill them on the spot. She might not get to visit the man anymore if she would commit that crime in the open.

After a few minutes of turning around corridors and going through dark passageways, she and her escorts arrived at a thick metal door securely padlocked on the inside and the outside. The woman allowed a smile to leak through her pale features; they sure knew how notorious the prisoner was. Folding her arms in front of her chest and tapping her foot impatiently, she waited for the guards to pry the door open, who pulled off the task longer than the other guards did. _Newbies,_ she thought in amusement, a few complicated but effective plots already forming in her mind with regards to her friend's escape.

But she pushed all of her brilliant ideas away as she was led inside, and rather roughly at that, as how most women were treated in their society. That pushed her even more to put her plans into action, but she decided against it. It wasn't the time… not _yet_. At that, the redhead nodded curtly to the guard who reminded her sternly that she only had five minutes with the convicted murderer, then she walked up towards the prisoner casually as the door slammed shut.

He was, undeniably, a handsome and gallant-looking man, with dark hair and expressive brown eyes, but he seemed tired and weary. He was sitting on a cot with his hands clasped together firmly, as if he was supporting his degrading self with his own strength and will to live, and upon looking up slightly to peer at his visitor, a hint of recognition crossed his face. He did not smile, however; he just gazed on, brown eyes meeting green. Then, calmly, almost without emotion, he said, "Mara."

"Han."

This time, he let out a bitter smile. "_Thrackan,_ dear."

She did the same, although it didn't make much of a difference as that specific kind of smile seemed to be on her face all the time, ever since her world came tumbling down three years ago. "And that's _Arica_ for you," she told him in response, before she moved forward and settled down beside him, leaving a comfortable distance between her and the prisoner. She then looked away, a sad light squinting through her emerald eyes, her voice threatening to leave her throat. "Mara died three years ago, just as Luke Skywalker did."

The prisoner rested one rough hand on her shoulder, and squeezed it encouragingly. "You've always been strong," he pointed out, the emotion on his face hard to identify because of the darkness that dominated the cell, "and you always will be. Now, what brings you here? Come to play hit-and-run?" He pulled back and shifted his position to gaze directly at her, the lopsided grin he was known for flashing once again on his features. He then raised a chestnut-colored eyebrow, waiting for her answer patiently. He was sure that she would speak up, as she was only given five minutes with him.

"Not now, as much as I would love to," Arica replied, turning back to face him, an unreadable expression on her face. "I actually came to tell you one thing, then to ask you another. But you have to promise me not to attempt to break free of this place once after I tell you all about it. I don't want you to get killed for nothing." His assurance was the simple gesture of putting his hand over his chest, and closing his eyes as he did so. "Good. Well, I just found out that… Leia's alive."

His eyes flew wide open, his hand dropping to his side. "Leia's alive?"

She nodded, putting a finger to her lips to remind him to keep his voice down. "Long story, I don't have the time to tell all about it right now. But she is, and I'm doing my best to get her back," she whispered, then even if it seemed that her voice would not drop any lower, it considerably did. "She's in a mental ward right now, and it's clearer --- now more than ever ---- that your evil cousin is behind all this. Now, don't try to do anything stupid. I'll get her out, then I'll get _you_ out. All clear?"

Thrackan grinned, unable to hide the happiness he was feeling despite his condition inside the military stronghold. Finally, after how many years, the odds were tipping in their favor, and it won't be long before all their efforts would pay off. "Like a giant needle on a haystack," he declared, then a short while after, his features softened. "I miss her so much. I don't know how I've been able to survive all these years without being with her or my sons. Without being _near_ them. Optimism, perhaps? Or the assurance of a good life after getting revenge?"

"I can't tell; that's you. You should know. But you know, I'm really impressed. Seventeen years here in prison, and you're still sane? I never expected that of you, Solo," she teased. She was about to sneak in another topic, when she heard footsteps from outside the cell, and she scowled. It had only been three minutes; those guards were such cheats. "One last thing. Of what significance is the name _Jaina_ to you? Don't ask why, I don't have time for that."

"That's the name Leia and I agreed on for a daughter. If only we got one."

At that, Arica stood up, just in time as the door slammed open, her escorts stepping in, ready to throw her back to the outside world. She didn't even bother to protest about the precious two minutes they robbed her of; she knew that it would be of no use to do so. With merely a curt nod as a goodbye gesture to her friend, she walked out of the cell with guards left and right, uncaring of what they were doing, this time because of her satisfaction at the answer she received. Everything was beginning to make sense --- and a _lot_ of sense, at that.

"Once a thief, always a thief. Didn't I keep reminding you of that, Butterfly?" Xenakis sneered as he fixed his gaze on the helpless figure that stood in the middle of the death pit, surrounded by five lions that were ready to tear her to pieces at the slightest movement. He leaned back against his throne in satisfaction, licking his lips. "Of course I stole them, and I tested their capabilities in the battlefield through Raynar and Eryl. And now, the best test subject yet, the goddess of the pickpocketing world who I took care of and taught with much love and care. Can you fight as good as you steal?"

Glaring daggers at the gang leader while still watching out for her predators, Tahiri snarled, "You taught me nothing, Xenakis. Do you think I would've learned how to oppose your ills and run away if you were my mentor? Experience is the best teacher." As soon as she said that, however, she added to herself with a smile, _But only second best to Arica Jade._ Then she slipped one hand into one of the secret compartments of her suit, taking out three poison darts and removing the tip coverings in preparation for her assault. "You're asking if I can fight as good as I steal? Well, let me tell you a little secret, then, Xenakis darling. I was trained to _kill_."

At the blink of an eye, she hurled all three darts towards the front row of lions, did a back flip, and landed a few good meters away from where she last stood. As she fumbled for her other hidden weapons, the remaining two lions lunged at her viciously as the other three stumbled one by one, the poison taking root. Barely able to mutter thanks to Danni under her breath for being such a genius, two darts appeared from the eastern part of the dome and struck the savage beasts.

Xenakis bolted up from his seat, disbelief and rage in his eyes. He let out a deafening roar that sounded nowhere near human, and to the fifteen-year-old's surprise, the lions struggled to get up, their blood stirring at the sound of the gang leader's battlecry. "You won't get away from me this time, Tahiri Veila!" the man cried out, pointing a finger at her. "You will not make it out of the death pit alive!"

A ring of black-robed men formed around the arena, trapping the former thief inside. Either she face the lions, or face Xenakis' top warriors. But she knew better. There was only one person for her to take down; her comrades would take care of the rest. "The one who's not getting away alive, Xenakis," she began in a low, lethal tone, a mischievous gleam appearing at the corners of her eyes, "is _you_."

She did a somersault, sending her outside the death pit, and outside the ring of warriors, who all turned their backs on the beasts to deal with her. To their surprise, however --- their colossal leader included --- Tahiri had her hands full, as she had a sheathed sword in each hand. Dropping into a fighting stance, the holsters fell off to reveal two very sharp-looking blades, their edges glowing with a lethal light. Smirking at the frightened Xenakis, she announced, "This is the end, _Master. _I will not allow you to force those children to steal for you. You know, in a way, I'm glad to have known you. But not in the way you think I'm glad to be."

"Finish her!"

One warrior after the other attacked Tahiri, but she fended them off effectively, now easier than ever as she had her favorite weapons in her possession. She did her best not to kill anyone, however, as she knew they were only following their deranged master's command, left without a choice in the matter. _No, they're just not brave enough to disobey him,_ she corrected herself as she parried, then kicked her sword-wielding opponent on one side of his face. He stumbled, obviously not skilled enough to fight her with a sword, but another took his place and attacked. This time she blocked the blade that came crashing down from above her, spun her own sword around and pushed the robed man away.

Xenakis was screaming, ordering the next warrior and the next to attack, but they all fell as they were in range of the female fighting machine. With almost nothing left, he let out another inhuman roar, hoping to motivate his pets and make them attack the fifteen-year-old. They might get past her defenses and eat her up, tearing her limb by limp. But not one of them came, and as he spared a glance at the death pit, he saw all five of the lions lying limp on one side, and two masked strangers standing in their midst. One carried a large sword, thick and bulky but appeared light as she rested it over her shoulder with ease, while the other had a crossbow in her hands.

He backed off, panicking and stumbling back as he tripped over his throne. Desperate to stay alive, he reached out for the secret compartment under his magnificent-looking chair, drawing out a gun and aiming it at where he believed Tahiri was. But he barely had it up on the air when it was knocked out of his hand, and a fist came slamming on his cheek, sending him down on the other side of his so-called royal seat. He attempted to rise and try to retrieve his weapon that lay just within his reach, but the pain stopped him from doing so. It closed on him from all sides, not just from his bruised face.

"It ends now, Xenakis," came Tahiri's whisper, and that was the last sound he heard --- and would ever hear.

---

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Author's Notes: 

This chapter's title is in Old English, **theof **meaning thief. Pertaining to Tahiri, of course. So anyway, I would like to take this opportunity to thank **Yuriko Oyama aka RaineSolo**, **Gwendolyn Rogan**, **Elda Aranel** and **Kaeldra** for reviewing! Thank you to you, too, **Shai**, for your nice words. Don't worry, it's perfectly fine that you weren't able to review. We talk almost everyday, anyway. Just one thing, though. I go back to school on the ninth this month, so I might not be able to have updates very often. I'll do my best, though. So now to address your concerns:

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Raine: Inside jokes are not healthy for other people. =P Jacen/Danni action in the next chapter; it took me a long time to decide on how to get it done. I had to consult my brother, even if it was already late at night. Whee me.

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Gwendolyn Rogan: Thank you, I'm very flattered to hear that. I'm going to read your fics sometime, when I get enough time online. I'm sure they're great as well --- even better than mine.

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Elda Aranel: Oh boy, that_ is _the question I'm debating about. Don't worry, I'll give it much thought, and go with what the majority wants. Which is, most probably, to have him alive. *smiles*

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Kaeldra: Here you go! As you asked!


	6. Interventus

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Scarlet Shadows  
© Kaz, 2003

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Chapter Six – Interventus

"Well, it was actually a nickname given by my friend Eryl," Tahiri replied to her friends' question, lying down on the sofa and gazing up at the ceiling with her arms tucked under her head. "You see, there are species of butterflies that are poisonous, with spores hidden underneath their bright-colored wings. Some kinds, I just forgot what they were called, can cause blindness to humans. And eventually, everyone else adopted that name for me. _'Beautiful and deadly,'_ that was why they called me such. Very flattering, if you think about it --- but not when Xenakis uses it. Everything he says are insults."

"So… you were a top-notch thief in that gang of his?"

The grin on the fifteen-year-old's face disappeared, and she closed her eyes as she took a deep breath. "Yes --- and that's why there's really nothing for you to be insecure about; we all have our stories. So what if you're a courtesan, or a drug maker? I was a thief myself. We all worked on the underworld one way or another." She looked at the older women and smiled, softly this time. "In one of our schemes, I tried to escape, as I was no longer contented with my life. Xenakis captured me, but Aunt Arica, miraculously, was nearby and she came to my rescue. And you know everything else that happened from then."

A quizzical look appeared on Nadine's face at that. "I'm just wondering --- why us? I mean, there are many other women out there to train in this field, and yet Aunt Arica chose us. What's the one thing in common that might have been the reason why we were put together as _Moirae?_ I don't think it's because we had jobs that weren't very… well… _good_, if I may say." She shifted her position to be able to look directly at her friends' faces, including Tahiri who was lying down in a very comfortable stance. "Maybe because we already had the required skills for the job we have now?"

"Maybe," Danni replied, leaning back against her chair. "And I believe that's the case too. I mean, think about it. You, Nadine, are very good with machinery, although you haven't spent a lot of your time tinkering with them, and that there aren't much in the market at present. How many establishments use those kind of things? Mostly those that belong to the Solo faction, which we have infiltrated effectively with your help. You're also very talented with weapons; you can handle almost anything. And you have the abilities of a diplomat. You can talk smooth when you want to, and if you want to manipulate someone then you can by simply talking to them."

"You give me too much credit, Danni," Nadine commented with a laugh.

The eldest of the three only smiled. "I just give credit where credit is due. No need to act so humble," she declared, then turned her head to the side slightly to glance at Tahiri with a grin. "On the other hand, you are simply a fighting machine. Hand-to-hand combat isn't a problem for you at all; you can do it with your eyes closed. Maybe you're not too versatile with weapons, but you can do the jumps, backflips, and somersaults we can only dream of. You're very graceful, very agile, very fast-paced. You're also not afraid to make the first move."

A cocky grin appeared on the fifteen-year-old's face, then she sat up and smirked. "Well, what's the use of being from a family of gymnasts and acrobats? Although I lost them when I was a little girl, but I still got the genes to carry on," she remarked, before she and Nadine turned to look at the third member of their team. "Let's not forget about you, Danni, the brain of _Moirae_, who's telling us that we're acting too humble when you are doing so yourself. Heck, you're a genius! So what if you're not the combat kind of girl? You've always been good on the defensive, with your keen senses and your invaluable ability to think fast. And we all know that offense doesn't work all the time."

"But I'm sickly," she protested, pushing back a few locks of her blond hair that edged towards her face. "And very sloppy. I'll never be good enough to get into the front line of the assault formation, with my ability in hand-to-hand combat. And I'll never be able to use anything else but projectiles, because I'm terrible at swords and daggers."

"How about me? I'm careless, easily angered, and a ditz. I may move fast, but I don't think fast. Sometimes I don't even think at all," Tahiri blurted out with a giggle, earning similar reactions from her comrades. "I suck at projectiles, and I definitely suck at watching other people's back. Defense isn't my forte either. And I can't stand waiting. I _have_ to move, or else I'll go crazy."

"And I'm a cold-hearted slut, selfish and individualistic. All I used to think about was myself, all the suffering I had to go through, all the pain I felt… everything. That was until the mission to assassinate Aalto, of course," the eighteen-year-old member of the group explained, flashing a smile which the _'old'_ Nadine wouldn't have let out. "I realized how selfish I was, forgetting that I'm not the only one who suffered. Aside from that, well, I'm not very good in hand-to-hand combat. I always need something in my hand, whether that be a stone or a metal rod. And I'm not skilled at planning anything, most especially with team battle tactics, despite my talent with machinery. That's Danni's specialty: _thinking_."

At that, the three of them let out a hearty laugh, something that happened more frequently than ever before. From behind one side of the doorway, Arica allowed herself a smile. _Someday, girls,_ she thought to herself, her happy disposition disappearing as her calm, nonchalant front took over, _I'm going to tell you the real reason why I picked you three to be the members of Moirae. Someday._

The Solo villa was a luxurious-looking mansion that appeared very heavenly compared to the houses that were built a good distance away from its location. It had large windows with expensive drapes in eye-catching colors, white walls that shone with much radiance against the afternoon light, a magnificent garden with a tiny, bubbling fountain in its midst, red-plated rooftops, and a perimeter fence built with strong-looking metal bent and twisted in various designs. It was evident, by the exterior of their residence alone, that the Solos were the richest citizens in the country.

The interior of the chateau was even more extravagant than its exterior. It was spacious and very tidy, with walls and floors made of the most expensive kind of stone. The furniture were undeniably of the lavish kind. Despite the fact that Han Solo rarely let anyone else inside his home, especially those who weren't related to him by blood, the villa was second residence to Kyp Durron and Jagged Fel. The former was one of the members of the Corellian Senate and running Vice President in the upcoming elections, while the latter was his apprentice in the political industry, the second son of Senator Soontir Fel.

That lazy afternoon, the two visitors and the Solo brothers were gathered in the balcony, playing a game of chess to set their minds. Kyp had taken the white pieces, his disciple Jag observing his every move and throwing questions whenever something significant would cross his mind, while Jacen chose the black pieces, enlisting the help of his brother Anakin to defeat the other team. The thirty-two-year-old Senator was an aggressive man who wanted to make the first move at everything, even at a simple chess game, while the eighteen-year-old politician-in-training preferred to take up the defensive side, as he was a pacifist.

"Jace, let your big shots out already," Anakin bugged after doing a few mental calculations regarding the moves he predicted would take place, squirming towards the edge of his seat to whisper the suggestion. His restlessness was shining through like a piercing light once again. "If you won't, he'll sweep through all of your guard posts and take down all your defenses."

At that, Kyp averted his eyes from the chessboard towards the youngest member of their gathering, then leaned back against his chair with a knowing smile. "That's what's happening, isn't it?" he asked, putting his hands together, intertwining his fingers. "Bel Iblis has unleashed his assassin group to sweep through all our guard posts and take down our defenses. Unless we go out there and stop them, damage will be done, and our faction will be vulnerable to attacks of a larger scale."

Anakin nodded. "I agree with you, but shouldn't we know more about them first before we strike? Who they are, who's behind their actions, who their next target is?" he inquired, his concentration not on the game anymore. Even his older brother's gaze moved from the game board to the other two members of their strike team. "I _did_ make a list of their victims, but they make no sense. There's no such thing as a pattern. It's like they kill at random."

The older of the two Solos gripped his brother's shoulder. "No, they don't kill at random," Jacen declared, his brown eyes narrowing significantly. "To begin with, their victims are all men. Most of them had businesses that were connected to women. Verflux had a collection of women slaves, and he sold them in auctions. Stockher was developing a sleeping serum when he was killed. He tested it on women. Aalto was a drug dealer, and it's rumored that the person he forced to make drugs for him was a woman. And there were more. In short, they are an all-women team, killing in the name of revenge. At least, that's what I believe them to be."

"Jag? What do you think?"

"I agree with Jacen," he replied with a nod. "They must be female vigilantes out for vengeance. I mean, ever since Leia Organa Solo's death --- sorry to remind you two --- the women have _completely_ lost their place in society. Even if we don't think of them as lowly underworld folk, most other men do. They think of them as slaves, experiment components, puppets, pleasure-givers, and many others. If these assassins knock down the big boys, the others will be inspired to lead a revolution. And remember, Viqi is running for Senator. She will definitely be a major key player if ever the women will revolt. They could drive her to the position of President at that."

"_If_ ever they'll get as far as that revolution," Kyp stated firmly, a sly smile playing on his features. He then stood up and walked towards the far end of the balcony, looking out at the small huts that stood nearby. "And we must not let them achieve that. We must destroy the assassins before they destroy _us_. For that, we have to investigate. We have to know who these females are. We have to force them to show themselves." He whirled around to look at his comrades, a mischievous gleam in his eyes. "Let's say… a rumor about one of us engaging in a woman-affecting business, perhaps?"

A fit of giggles erupted from the dressing room of the _Feu de Joie_ as a small container full of face powder slipped from Nadine's hand and landed on the floor, sending its debris towards Tahiri's new red shoes. The younger woman then let out a cry of victory at that, for she had a reason to take off her footwear to dust off the specks of white that accumulated on it. "You know, I was beginning to doubt that life would go back to normal for us, even for a night," she muttered as she took out a washcloth and wiped off the powder. "But I was wrong. We're going to be on stage again, isn't that going to be fun?"

"Just like the first time. See the men drool at your feet and be glad!" Nadine replied with a lopsided grin, pushing her face closer to the large mirror and putting on a considerable amount of make-up. She was wearing a sleeveless velvet dress with a plunging neckline and a long slit at the right side, and her long brown hair was allowed to cascade down her back like a waterfall, providing the customers the impression of a huntress who had looks that could kill.

Tahiri, on the other hand, was wearing a crimson dress that wrapped itself around her pleasant form, then dropped not very low that her legs were still exposed. Thus, she had to wear shoes, as it was the only way for her to complete her seductress look. She groaned as she put her footwear back on, not at all delighted by the fact, then added, "I shouldn't have gone with this. A longer dress would've saved my problem. Argh."

They heard footsteps, and upon whirling around they saw Arica standing by the doorway, one hand resting on the wall rather comfortably. "I'm afraid I have to agree with you, Tahiri, that you shouldn't have gone with that," she began, "yet I disagree that you wear a longer dress." She then walked towards the two, then handed the girls dresses that were perhaps the most beautiful ones they had seen so far, as they were glittering against the faint light of the dressing room in a dazzling, mesmerizing manner. "Put those on. Tonight, you have to look your best."

"Why so?"

A smirk appeared on the redhead's features, her green eyes gleaming with an emotion that the younger women could not make out. "The Solos are in the house," she answered casually, sitting down on the table that was not very far from where the teenagers were standing. Her statement caused Tahiri's eyes to widen slightly, but she paid her no mind. "The brothers Jacen and Anakin. And I want you to go out there and get as much information about their family as possible. Also, I want you to hurry. Danni's keeping a close eye on them, but there's nothing she could do if they lose their interest and decide to leave."

Arica's information, however, was not very accurate. True, the twenty-three-year-old waitress was keeping watch over the Solos, who sat at one corner of the nightclub in silence, but it was the older of the brothers, Jacen, who was keeping a close eye --- a close eye on _her_. She did not notice that, however, because the young man would look away everytime she would spare a glance at their direction, and because she was busy attending to the needs of the other customers. She hoped that her comrades would get into the picture soon, for she was tired of splitting her vision just so the Solos would not escape her line of sight.

Filing the glasses of liquor on top of the tray she was carrying, she then started to make her way towards a table just in front of where the Solo brothers sat, where five gruff-looking men crowded around and admired the girls who danced on the stage. She went through a small passageway just between two chairs, careful to keep the tray and the goblets balanced, when a short, bald man at her right side suddenly stood up. Luckily, she was able to swerve to the other side just in time to avoid being hit and spilling the contents of the glassware.

However, one of the customers in the _Feu de Joie _had a very bad idea for a joke, and because Danni had her eyes fixed on the bald man, apologizing for their near collision, she did not notice that one of the customers at her left side --- a long-haired street thug whose age was impossible to tell --- had stuck his foot out, right in her path. And just as the prankster expected, she tripped, although she was lucky enough not to crash on the floor facedown and the drinks on top of her. Despite the fact that she managed to regain her balance, however, one of the goblets on the tray tipped over, and its contents drenched the upper half of one of the five men at the table she was headed for.

Immediately, the man stood up and drew himself to his full height, which wasn't very much. His dark eyes were flashing dangerously, and left without a choice --- she was strictly warned by her Aunt Arica that she was not allowed to display her talents in the fighting arts inside the premises --- she settled for an apology, bowing off afterwards and turning to leave. However, the man grabbed her arm before she could leave, and caught by surprise, the tray completely fell off from her other hand, the glasses breaking and the contents spilling. "And where do you think you're going, little miss?"

"I-I'm really sorry, it was an a-accident," Danni apologized. "I'll g-go get a new set of the drinks you o-ordered."

"Oh no, that won't be necessary, Mademoiselle. Drinks are actually of no matter to us now, for we've had more than enough already," the man with a mustache who sat across the young waitress muttered with a knowing smile, gesturing to his soaked companion to sit down and let him do the talking. He fidgeted with his facial hair for a little while, his eyes gazing at the woman from head to feet, then he motioned to the empty chair at his right. "Please be so kind to join us. We could use a pleasure-giver at times like these, and you seem like a very good one. You look very energetic."

She said nothing as she forced her anger away. _Don't blow up, Danni. Not here, not now._

"I said _join us!_"

Danni backed off slightly in reflex, surprised and alarmed at the same time by the commanding tone in his thundering voice. She had seen and encountered a lot of men of his caliber, but she didn't know what caused her to be so frightened. The man, on the other hand, rose from his seat and decided to take advantage of her startled reaction. Women were made to obey men, and he was going to prove her point. He reached out to grab her, his aim to pull her down towards the table where they could help themselves, when something with much force hit his face, sending him back down on his seat. In fact, the impact was too much for the chair to take that one of its legs gave way and made the man crash on the ground, flat on his bottom.

"Leave her alone. She doesn't deserve your atrocity," her savior told the remaining four men in a calm yet lethal tone, a dangerous gleam leaking through his chocolate-colored eyes. He did not move from his place, in front of the young waitress with one arm held out protectively, his eyes darting around to see who would dare challenge him next. He had the feeling that they would soon pounce on him for interfering, but that he did not mind. He just couldn't stand the sight of a woman being maltreated just because she was not one of their kind.

A few heartbeats, then two of the men at the table, the one closest to where he was standing, rose and cracked their knuckles to show how capable they were of fighting back. "Isn't this a lovely sight?" the taller of them sneered, his yellow teeth exposed to the observing crowd as he let out a huge smile. He then extended his hand and ruffled the eighteen-year-old's somewhat unruly brown hair. "Jacen Solo, the eldest son of running President Han Solo, diplomat extraordinaire, is sticking his neck out for a skimpy _waitress?_ You certainly don't see this everyday!"

The young man held out one finger. "One chance for you to back off and leave us in peace," Jacen warned sternly, taking a step forward to emphasize his point. That he was stronger than they were, smarter than they were, and that he wasn't afraid of them. Anakin, on the other hand, had taken Danni by the hand and pulled her over, out of harm's way. "If you won't take this once-in-a-lifetime opportunity I'm offering you, I'm certain you're going to be very sorry for what you did, and for what you tried to do." He let out a lopsided grin, then held out five fingers. "Five seconds. Five. Four. Three. Two. One…"

---

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Author's Notes: 

Vocabulary time! This chapter's title, **interventus**, is Latin for intervention. Anyway, I'd like to apologize for the delay of this chapter; college has been such a drag. True, I get off earlier than when I was in high school, but I'm unfortunately stuck in the university until my parents pick me up hours later. And I've got lots of things to study for. The pressure's primarily what's driving me into that insanity, which isn't of the good kind. So…

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Vorquellyn – Yes, Viqi is going to be evil, don't worry. Because I hate her. Oh, and thanks about clearing the suggestion about Mirax up. I haven't read all of the NJO books so I don't really know much about her involvement with Mara. But I'll do my best to fit her in.

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Fire Princess – *blushes* Thanks, sis. But I'm sure you write them good as well!

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Kaeldra – Don't worry, I have that habit too! *points to self* I'm a hardcore anime fan, and I obsess on different characters every time. Non-carbon-based life forms are very interesting, you see. Anyway, thanks for the compliments. I personally like how Tahiri turned out after I played around with the words.

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Gwendolyn Rogan – I wasn't planning on putting that visiting scene, but I wanted to drop hints every now and then. So there. Thanks for reading this far, and I hope that I will be able to get around to writing a multi-chaptered fic that'll be in the SW universe… someday.

Thanks again, everyone! 


	7. Toye

**Scarlet Shadows**  
© Kaz, 2003-2004   
  
  
  
_Chapter Seven – Toye_   
  
  
  
Unfortunately, Jacen Solo had never fought for the sake of someone he had taken quite a fancy on --- and in that case, he was distracted big-time --- so in his heroic attempt to save the blonde-haired damsel in distress he earned a good, _hard_ blow in the face that rendered him a black eye some time afterwards. That one punch, despite the damage it caused, didn't stop him from his girl-saving spree, however; in fact, it only made him more determined than ever. Closing his deep brown eyes, he concentrated on nothing else but the men who dared to cross the pretty waitress' path. If there was a technique in the fighting arts he excelled in, it was the blind-with-both-hands-tied-behind-one's-back style, the art of calm fighting. He was the only one who could pull it off nice and easy.   
  
The street thugs, who never thought of the possibility that the older Solo was trained in more than just the bureaucratic ways, charged as soon as they felt like doing so, acting on impulse and reflex. Being big and brawny members of the presumed stronger sex, their initial assault done in unison caused the nearby tables and chairs to topple down, and sent the people panicking a short moment after. The males immediately bolted away from the battle point, their safety being their number one priority, while the few females in the premises, including the dancers and the other courtesans, started screaming and shrieking at the brawl that was taking place.   
  
Jacen was oblivious to all the noise and chaos, however, for he was focused on his enemies alone. He dodged one attack after the other with much grace and charm, ducking and somersaulting whenever he felt the need to, landing on top of a table once in a while without losing his balance or causing the furniture to topple over. He punched and kicked, leapt and rolled, knocking down the ill-willed ruffians one by one until the only one left standing was the beefiest member of the bunch. And still, his eyes remained closed, which added to the good impression he was already making on the emerald-eyed Danni Quee.   
  
The surviving gang member let out a howl before he tore his upper garment off, revealing his muscles in all their thuggish glory. The gesture was useless, however, as his adversary was not keeping an eye on him at all. On the other hand, Jacen was at the verge of attacking the hooligan when the younger Solo, the blue-eyed Anakin, rested a hand on his shoulder calmly and offered without the slightest hint of hesitation, "Let me help you, brother."   
  
There was something in the seventeen-year-old's voice that made the older of the two stop; it was then when he grew aware of the steely determination in his little brother, and so he gave in to his request, which was put out rather cockily, to say the least. He soon dropped his guard, slipped out of his fighting stance, and finally opened his eyes once more, sweeping his gaze around the area for a brief moment to check the damage he had caused and would have to pay for. That finished, he then stepped aside and allowed the other Solo to move forward, as their foe had already been waiting for their battle to come to a close.   
  
It didn't take long for him to find out, however, the reason why his brother was back into showing off how good he was at kicking other people's butt. Just behind the bright red curtains of the stage stood a young woman, blonde like the one who had caught his eye --- but not as attractive, to his point of view --- and she had her eyes fixed on Anakin, watching him with much interest and a sense of admiration, if he was not mistaken. To confirm if his suspicions were correct, Jacen averted his gaze to his brother, and found him standing in front of the fallen street fighter, beaming at the courtesan with one foot pressed on the other's chest in victory. An unspoken attraction, definitely, and he was just as sure _she_ was the reason Anakin insisted on going to the _Feu de Joie_.   
  
"I'm very sorry for the trouble these goons caused, Mr. Solo. Once again they've lost their manners," a firm yet welcoming voice exploded from the far end of the room, and Jacen turned around to come face-to-face with a well-built woman with fiery red hair and gleaming emerald green eyes. She was straightening herself and fixing her hair with one hand, a gesture the young politician had seen so often every time someone would walk up to him and address him. Before he could say anything in reply, however, she extended her hand. "I'm Arica Jade. I own this place."   
  
"We should be the one to apologize for the mess we caused," he told her as he shook her hand, motioning towards the disarranged tables and chairs as well as the broken pieces of glass and liquor bottles. He then forced a smile, his bureaucratic front back into place. "How much do we have to pay for all this, Miss---"   
  
"_Madam_. I'm married," the redhead quickly corrected with a soft smile, pulling the young man aside as some of her subordinates came in to drag the ruffians out. Noticing that the older Solo was slightly injured, she quickly turned to the blonde-haired waitress who stood nearby, gesturing that she come to her, and then, she looked back at Jacen and finished, "And it's no bother, Mr. Solo. We get these brawls and gang fights all the time. You don't have to pay for anything at all, except perhaps for the drinks you and your brother ordered. But before that we have to get yourself fixed up. Danni, please."   
  
Jacen was about to protest, as his injury was nothing more than a bruise that would disappear in a few days' time, but as soon as he realized Arica was referring to the _waitress_, he immediately changed his mind.   
  
  
  
  
  
"Ow!" Jacen winced loudly as Danni went on to tend the bruises on his handsome face, unable to hold on to the pain he was feeling any longer. He knew he blew his chances of impressing the young woman by his apparent lack of manliness, so instead of focusing on that, he sent a prayer to the one in charge in the heavens in request that her type be knightly boys who aren't too fond of pain. Seeing her embarrassment at having exerted too much pressure on her application of the medicine --- out of nervousness, perhaps? --- and therefore causing more pain than comfort, he quickly told her that he just wasn't man enough to stifle his cry of pain. Her abashed expression was reduced rapidly into a relieved one, but it was as clear as day that she was blushing.   
  
And it didn't take long for the young diplomat to realize that so was he.   
  
To serve as a diversion, primarily for himself, he grabbed the ice bag that lay unnoticed on the table and pressed it firmly against his swollen eye. The iciness of the frozen water cubes trapped in the bag's interior did little to make the warmth that had spread on his face disappear. He further shifted into another angle to prevent him from seeing her, not that he didn't want to, of course. He had been told that women were one of his weaknesses, but he never expected it to be actually proven. At least his brother was not around to disturb him with his teasing.   
  
"Jacen? I-I mean, Mr. Solo," the waitress quickly corrected herself after her initial call, green eyes flickering from his attractively calm features to the dull wooden floor. As much as she was aware of his true identity, she couldn't seem to aim her hatred for his family at his direction, not after he stood up for her. True, she would've been able to handle those goons --- kill them, even --- but the way he spoke in her defense meant much more than his showy fighting. It was then when she realized that despite the majority's actions against her kind, there were still those who actually cared. If Jacen had stuck to talking about how women shouldn't be treated badly she would've whisked away the consideration that he was a woman-sympathizer, but he went as far as showing the bad boys what the consequences of abusing women were. And that she truly appreciated. "Thank you… I guess."   
  
He couldn't resist. He turned around and found her smiling warmly at him. _Don't blush_, he ordered his inner self sternly, sending the command fiercely through his system so as to affect his hormones as well, before returning the favor and letting out a smile himself. "It was no problem at all." When she looked back down on the floor, which he, too, found very unattractive, in apparent embarrassment, he immediately added, "Really. It was nothing, Danni. Well… is it alright if I call you that?"   
  
She nodded. "Sure. After you saved me," she made it sound as if she was truly in debt to him, "how could I say no? Right here and now I'd practically do anything you'd ask me to. With the appropriate boundaries established, of course."   
  
_I sure would like to ask if I could kiss you_, Jacen thought, amused.   
  
Danni then extended her hand, getting on with the formalities. After all, they hadn't been properly introduced; she knew him because he was popular, he knew her because Arica told him about her. "Pleasure to meet you… Jacen." She sounded uncertain at calling him by his first name --- she was just a waitress in some night club, after all, while he was the son of bureaucrats, and a budding one at his own right, with a bright future within his grasp --- to the extent that her comment seemed like a question.   
  
But he didn't seem to notice. "So… how long have you been working here?" he asked as he pulled his hand away from her grip. _And do you intend to stay here your whole life? Because if you do, I'd happily volunteer to be your bodyguard, and make sure that nobody would treat you the way those goons did ever again_, he thought, wanting to say those words but simply unable to. It was too early. And besides, he didn't even know if she felt the same way towards him, or if his attraction towards her was simply a juvenile crush that would disappear into oblivion at their parting.   
  
"All my life," she lied in reply. She wasn't going to let a stranger pry into her private affairs.   
  
He raised an eyebrow.   
  
"Two years," she admitted, only realizing a moment later how he had seen through her façade and figured out that she was lying. She didn't know what to think, or even feel, at that. "Before that, I…" She couldn't continue, and the impulse to stop and say nothing that would expose herself any further came automatically. How could she tell him that she once worked in one of their laboratories as a man, then was brutally kicked out when she was unfortunately discovered? How could she tell him that it was his family that cursed her? After all, if she hadn't been kicked out, she wouldn't have ended up working for the notorious drug lord Aalto, she wouldn't have made those deadly drugs that stole so many people's lives, she wouldn't have become the lethal assassin she was now.   
  
But the assassin part happened for a good reason, too. _I guess not all bad things are actually bad_, she said to herself. _Just as not all Solos are bad_. Then she was snapped out of reverie as she noticed that his calm gaze was still upon her. He had been waiting for her to continue as she had trailed off at mid-sentence, or he had been plainly staring at her for no particular reason at all. She tried not to squirm and flush under his intent stare, despite the fact that she had begun to feel very uncomfortable. "I worked in a factory," she broke the silence, as well as the staring spell that had taken over the young man. "So, what's new in your side of the world?"   
  
She feared that the change of topic had been too abrupt to arise his suspicion that she was, once again, hiding something from him. But, just as it had always been ever since their conversation commenced, Jacen didn't seem to notice.   
  
  
  
  
  
"So, how was he?" Nadine asked with a lopsided grin, her brown-capped head popping out of the doorway of Danni's private chambers. The youngest member of the assassin trio _Moirae_, Tahiri, appeared shortly after she did, still wearing the gown she had been asked to put on in their little mission to entertain the Solos, but this time, she wore no shoes. The brothers had gone home and so she was liberated from the painstaking requirement, at long last, and so she was back to acting like the ever-curious little sister of the bunch.   
  
"Honestly?"   
  
"You betcha!" Tahiri replied in excitement, practically hopping into the room and bouncing on the older woman's bed before finally settling down. The brown-haired lass followed her, but despite her prim-and-proper behavior, it was evident in her pretty features that she, too, was more than thrilled to hear what Danni had to say about her patient. While the waitress fixed up the injured older Solo, she and Tahiri had been entertaining Anakin --- more of prying for information, actually, but in an almost seductive fashion --- who, they seemed to agree in silence, was definitely a hottie. They wondered if the older brother was just as lovable as he was.   
  
A tinge of pink immediately appeared on Danni's cheeks. What did she have to say about Jacen Solo? That if they would one day go against his family, she would definitely spare his life even if it meant defying their superior's orders in return for his valiant effort to defend her? That she liked him not because of the way he looked, but because of his gentlemanly ways? That she had told him that in return for defending her she would do whatever he would ask her to do, and that if he had asked her to kiss him, she would've done so? She definitely had a lot to say about the dashing young politician, but she knew it was best to keep the details to herself until she was sure that she wasn't just crushing on some little boy. After all, he was five years _younger_ than her. "Cute," she answered, feeling herself turn even redder than she already was.   
  
And they broke into unified laughter, the younger two guessing just as much. It took quite a while for their giggles to die down, and when it finally did, a serious expression took over Tahiri's face. "You _do_ realize, however," she interrupted at the peak of the silence's song, shifting to a cross-legged position which she was a lot more comfortable with, "that he is a_Solo_, right?"   
  
"Well, if we manage to prove that he's an _innocent_ Solo, we wouldn't have to harm him, right? After all, he _is_ cute," Nadine agreed, an amused expression on her face. She then spared a meaningful glance at the younger blonde, grinning once again in a teasing manner. "Just like Anakin."   
  
They laughed again.   
  
"Seriously, Danni. He's got to be more than cute." The brown-haired courtesan's teasing smile was by then directed to the lovestruck waitress. She even shifted her angle so as to render it to her in full force, hoping for the best results. She attempted to look straight into Danni's eyes, but found the other desperately trying to stare at anything else but her eyes. It was an amusing sight, a sign that there was truly something brewing within her with regards to the young man she had so kindly treated. And who she had a long, nice chat with, too. "After all, cute can very well mean _'adorable and huggable'_ or _'ugly but acceptable'_ in layman's terms. And many others that we really wouldn't want to get into right now. Unless you're in the mood to play dictionary writer?"   
  
The older blonde looked bewildered for a moment, then she shook her head, standing up to leave. "Get a life."   
  
  
  
  
  
He knew he was out of his mind, but he couldn't ignore the order his heart was giving his mind and the rest of his body. He _had_ to see her, to see her _again_. The talk they had earlier wasn't enough to send him away; in fact, it even made him yearn to get to know her better. After all, she was a very interesting person --- and well, downright moody. But he liked that in a woman, even if it made her even more unpredictable than she already was.   
  
Their first encounter was definitely a cliché. Two people not watching where they were going, bumping into each other, him landing on top of her in the middle of the marketplace. Sure. He had seen that stunt being pulled off in stories and folklore, but he never expected it to happen to him. And then came the love at first sight part. Theoretically, it was a sweet sensation in which the two destined lovers would stare into each other's eyes, lost in their depths, realizing how radiant and good-looking the other was, and practically unable to look or pull away until something would break the spell. _That_ was precisely what happened back there. Did he, then, fall in love with her at first sight?   
  
That was what he wanted to find out. And hopefully, he would also discover if the feeling was mutual.   
  
He swallowed, realizing how he was doing it the hard way. He had chosen to run off while he and his brother were on their way home, sneaking through the nightclub's walls to get to the damsel's room. He didn't even know where her room was; he just hoped that luck would bring him there. It was already doing him a favor even at such an early time, for the part of the establishment that he had chosen to climb was at the opposite end of the street, facing a desolate clump of who knew what, and thus, away from prying eyes. He wouldn't get accused of breaking in someone's home, and that was a relief.   
  
Suddenly, he felt himself slip, his grasp failing him. To his dismay, he began to slide back down towards the lower floors --- he was already near the top, where he presumed the fair maiden was kept because that was where pretty girls were always hidden in --- and he had already fallen back three floors when he managed to get a hold on a window pane. His survival being his first priority at that moment, he pulled himself up with as much energy as he could muster and stumbled into the room through the open window.   
  
The room was small, but nicely furnished. There was an elegant-looking divan draped with light pink bed sheets and pillows of the same shade, as if it belonged to a princess. Beside it, against the wall, was a petite side table, a dresser which remained open to reveal the owner's collection of make-up and other cosmetics, and a large clothes cabinet, which, too, was open. On the opposite end was a large, body size mirror, and the princess who lived in the said room during her free time was, then and there, standing in front of it, at the verge of removing the gown she had been wearing.   
  
She sensed his presence. As soon as he fell into the wooden floor, she paused, midway through taking off her clothes, and turned to look at the intruder. Her verdant eyes immediately flew wide open in recognition that the stranger was a man and that he had snuck in through the window, and eventually, in recognition at who the outsider was. Unable to control herself, she shrieked in reflex, holding her gown as close to her as she could so as to conceal her body from his prying eyes. "What are you doing here?! Turn around! Turn around!"   
  
"What?" he asked, taken aback at the sudden turn of events. Whoever thought that fate would be so kind to have him slide off the wall and right into the room of the young woman who he had sought out to see and talk to?   
  
"TURN AROUND!"   
  
It was only then when her command clicked into his brain, and at that, he turned around abruptly, his gaze resting on the rooftops of all the other buildings in the neighborhood. He obediently remained in that position for a few heartbeats, but he soon found himself overruled by his curiosity, and perhaps, his inborn naughtiness. And so he peeked, hoping to catch a glimpse of his fair maiden even for just a moment while she was doing what she was doing. He underestimated her, however, not knowing that she was a lot tougher --- and _faster_ --- than she appeared to be. He had barely seen her angelic face, which was framed by her radiant golden strands, when a pillow came flying towards his face and hit him right on the spot.   
  
"Do that again, pervert," she threatened, glaring daggers at him, "and it will be my fist hitting your face!"   
  
  
  
  
  
---  
  
**Author's Notes:  
WARNING – EXTRA LONG!**   
  
I'm alive. I survived the attack of the Yuuzhan Vong, which came rather unexpected and drained me of a lot of resources, and I'm now recuperating in a bacta tank, trying to relax and get my life back in order. Hopefully I can go head to the Unknown Regions and look for Zonama Sekot soon. Seriously, I would like to apologize for not having updated this fic for so long. It's not that I've forgotten about it or anything, I just suffered an extremely severe case of Writer's Block and lack of inspiration, co-existing with college life that came as a surprise to me. I didn't know I'd live such a hectic life at its commencement. *shakes head*   
  
But now I'm back, reinspired after reading Remnant (yes, I'm only that far, and missing quite a lot in between *groans*), and I'm hoping to pick up the right momentum and get more chapters out to make up for my annoyingly long absence. Again, I would like apologize for that, from the bottom of my heart. I'm really really sorry, and I hope you'll all forgive me.   
  
I would also like to take this opportunity to thank my readers and reviewers, and my friends at the TFN boards --- **EBrooklynW, JainaJag00, JediMasterKobe, Neobi_Kenobi, Arina_Jaylin, JainaDurron, Jedi_Knight_Satine, starwbabe, JainaPadmeJade, Star-Lead, The_Jedi_Ambyr-Rose, Sword_Of_The_Jedi, Jaina_and_Jag, Elfsheen, JediMasterChie, Vorquellyn, Master_Vicky, Danni_Quee_Solo, SpikeLeadJF, Lorax, Jaina_Rocks160, -Trickster-, Audrey32189, duckedtapedemon, Flaming_Sword** (anyone I missed? *VERY nervous look, ready to blame it on the incorrectly saved web pages*) --- who had given me the encouragement, the support and inspiration to go on. Above all, thank you for understanding. Your support means so much to me. Thanks again!   
  
Anyway, for this chapter's title, we have the Middle English term for flirtation, which is **toye**. Pretty obvious why the title's that, ne? As for the Jaina ordeal, I have to say I admire the Jaina/Jag fans' perseverance at making such long posts (at the TFN boards) to declare their support for that couple. I still haven't figured out how to end her side of the story, but I know that with your help I'll be able to. I'm easy to influence, after all. *hint* *hint*   
  
Also, I would like to clarify a bit the structure of the nightclub. It's some sort of one building, with the club itself at the bottommost floor, and the rooms of the courtesans and the other workers on the next floors. Some sort of apartment. I made it that way so that it would be convenient for the three girls to go to 'work' and back home, where they could do their preparations for their real job without worrying about their enemies eavesdropping on them or something. After all, Mara owns the place.   
  
**Valentia** – Thank you! I can't promise it to be a Jaina/Jag, but it seems that it's in the lead.   
  
**Kitten** – Sorry to make you wait, but here's the continuation. I'll do my best to get the next chapter out soon, though I won't promise because I fear it might be broken. Thanks, I'm glad you like it.   
  
**Sibyl's Scion** – Thanks! There was the 'more' you asked for – and I, too, hope to write more soon! And I'm glad you like my portrayal of the characters. I'm doing what I can to make them stay in character, but having read the books at such long intervals sometimes makes me lose my perception of their traits. If something's not right, please let me know.   
  
**Ameri** – Thanks for pointing out the age gaps, and for the nice comment. Don't worry, Zekk will be in the fic. That I can assure you. A few chapters or so from now, I suppose… but he will be. So don't be sad now.   
  
**duckedtapedemon** – I'm sorry to make you wait, too. I hope you'll still be reading even though I've been dead for quite a long time. Again, I apologize. Thank you for your nice words!   
  
**socal-schitzophrenic** – I actually got this idea from an anime called _Weiss Kreuz_. Then I threw it random stuff here and there, and I'm glad you like how it's turning out so far. Luke/Mara romance? I'll see what I can do. And the guy in jail is Han. As for why it's like that, you'll find out in the later chapters. Hm, what else… oh yeah, _Moirae_ basically means "the Three Fates" of Greek (was it?) mythology, accordingly named Clotho, Lachesis and Atropos. One of them spun the thread of life, the other determined how long it would be, and the last would cut it and thus end a person's life. I don't know if I got them in the right order, though. And as for what happened before, I have yet to write down for you to read. *sheepish grin*   
  
**Vorquellyn** – I'm planning to touch Jaina's life in the next few chapters, so you'll know by then. I just hope I'll get around to writing those. And thanks, I'm glad you liked how Jacen came out. Though I'm not sure if I can keep him like that all the way… *nervous look* Thanks again!   
  
**Me aka Clay rocks!** – You can count on it. I like Anakin and Tahiri, too. Thanks!   
  
**Charmed luver222** – Here's the update! Thanks for reading and reviewing!   
  
**Alianne Sedai** – I'm sorry there wasn't much Anakin/Tahiri in this chapter, but as you can tell at where I left off, there will be in the next. Oh, and Tahiri's a courtesan, though of course I didn't make her or Jaina the kind who'd sleep with the guys and stuff. Technically we could call them the performers or something close to that, though I stick to the term 'courtesan' so as to make it look as if they're so lowly and everything. Anyway, thanks!   
  
**Gwendolyn Rogan** – Your wish is my command. I gave Jacen a black eye! And hurt him a little more than I originally intended to. I'm not sadistic but I do have the fangirl thing of torturing my favorite characters. In this case, Jacen and Danni. Whoo. Did I give away my plans? *whistles* Well, thanks for reading and reviewing this far! And again, I apologize for the absence. *bows*   
  
**Shai** – Hey! I haven't been able to address you in these A/Ns of mine, I'm sorry. But I'm back, and I think I can go around writing more chapters this time around. I hope for reviews because they bring inspiration. Anyway, thanks for the nice words. You always have them, and when I take them to you, you shy (shai? :p) away, being the humble guy you are. Thanks again.   
  
One more thing, guys… I fear plot holes. So if you sense one around the corner, or if you have a question that doesn't seem to have an answer, please do let me know so I can work on it before it develops into a plot hole. I don't want to cause you any more trouble than you're already experiencing with my absence. Thanks again, Kazie out. ^_^ 


	8. Alterare, Part I

**Scarlet Shadows**  
© Kaz, 2003-2004  
  
_Chapter Eight – Alterare, Part One_  
  
It was almost midnight when the trio arrived, but they were through with their mission in no time. The only thing that held them up was their release of the frightened, even hysterical, prisoners --- women who were bound to be killed, and then transformed into mannequins by the horrendous act of wax injection. The business was a new one, barely a week old, in fact, yet their boss received word of it just in time to stop its first shipping of doll products. It wouldn't have been a problem if wax was to be exported; unfortunately, a collection of beautiful Corellian ladies was at stake.  
  
They were out of the building even before the clock struck twelve. Not one of the women captives remained, and everyone else who had crossed their path, the leader of the operation included, were killed smoothly and nearly soundlessly, almost without a fight. They had managed to catch them off-guard.  
  
As soon as the three assassins were out of sight, a figure stepped out from the darkness, looking around casually as if he had not witnessed anything, let alone a brutal killing session. He was then joined by three others, visibly men, all of them having emerged from various hiding places in the warehouse. They surveyed the wreckage for a while, splitting up to do so, then regrouped at the center of the room to discuss what they had seen and uncovered. Despite the fact that they had disabled all the hidden cameras before their appearance, they chose to speak in hushed tones; they didn't want to stir anything, as they couldn't risk exposure. The moment word would leak out that they were trailing the assassins, they would become targets themselves, and they couldn't afford that with the election looming nearby.  
  
"They're falling into our trap. Slowly but surely. We'll corner them in no time."  
  
The youngest member of the group frowned, directing it towards the one who had just spoken. "We shouldn't be complacent, you know," he said, his ice-blue eyes narrowing as those words left him. He gestured towards the corpses that lay nearby with a sweep of his hand, the shadows suppressing his anxiety to the extent that it was almost invisible. He was born _and_ trained to be a fighter, yes, but dead people just weren't his acquaintances. "They're good, women they may be."  
  
He caused their leader to turn towards him and ask the question that had been disturbing him for quite sometime, though not to a great extent. "Where have you been anyway? It's not like you to be late." When the person concerned didn't say anything in reply, he turned towards the older brother and waited for a response, keeping his eyes on the other's calm face.  
  
The older Solo was glad that the darkness was there to conceal the bruises he had acquired from his valiant efforts to protect a certain blonde-haired waitress. Though Durron was not a relative of theirs, he had the tendency of taking control and acting like the annoying, too-inquisitive big brother at times. That was supposed to be _his_ role, as he was the older brother biologically speaking. That thought set aside, he then met the other's gaze and answered as nonchalantly as possible, "Out on an errand. We're still someone's sons, you know."  
  
"I know, Jacen. Well, let's just leave it at that and head back to our base. We have a strategy to plan out. Those girls seem to be more versatile in the fighting arts than we expected them to actually be…"

-**x**-

"Tahiri."  
  
The voice that had pronounced her name managed to enter the young woman's subconsciousness, but she whisked it away as if it was only a component of a dream. She rolled over to the opposite side and snuggled deeper into the pillows that provided her with unceasing comfort, with no intention of waking up from her slumber or ending her pleasant sleep in the land of dreams. When she felt herself being shaken once more, she muttered drowsily, "Five more minutes, mommy…" before grabbing the pillow closest to her and pressing it over her head. It would keep the noise away for the five minutes she had asked for.  
  
A stronger nudge. "Tahiri."  
  
"Five more minutes---"  
  
_"Tahiri!"_  
  
The reaction was reflexive, almost as if a bucket of ice-cold water had been splashed on the fifteen-year-old's flaxen face, when in fact what the other did was merely to scream. The blonde immediately bolted up from her bed, throwing her blanket away as if in panic, and began sputtering. It totally slipped her mind that she was in her bedroom, with a person she had long considered a friend, and that it was seven o'clock in the morning. "What? What? What's going on? Is he here?"  
  
"Who _he?_"  
  
"Anakin. Anakin So---" Everything finally sunk in, and Tahiri finally realized, after quite sometime, where she was, who she was with, and what happened. Suddenly she was very red, and she couldn't look at the other young woman in the eye. "Oh."  
  
Nadine could not help but roll her eyes. "And you, too." She began picking up the blanket and pillows that had ended up on the floor at the girl's outburst, not looking up even when she was asked what she meant with her statement. Only after she dumped them back on the blonde's bed did she answer, her arms crossed in front of her chest. "First, Danni. I thought she was just stressed out with our late, unplanned operation, but no, she was actually _dreaming_ of Jacen Solo. Then there you were, _fussing_ all over the younger brother. Am I glad I'm not desperately in love as you two are, because there's no other Solo left to snag but their father."  
  
It took a while for Tahiri to understand that she was merely teasing.  
  
She then spared a glance at the clock that hung near the door of her room, directly across her bed, and was immediately enraged upon seeing what time it was. It simply wasn't fair. They were out on a late-night mission that was not in their itinerary for the week, and she was awakened --- quite rudely, in fact --- at such an unholy hour. It was only seven in the morning. She, without delay, went into a screaming fit at her upsetting discovery, before plopping herself back defiantly on her bed, her green eyes squeezed shut.  
  
"We have a mission," she heard the brunette say, and she groaned. It was that word again, and she had to admit that she was getting tired of hearing it. Not that she had a way out, of course. She owed Arica her life, and she was more than willing to let her use it for whatever purpose she desired. Working as an assassin with a just cause was definitely a lot more pleasant than being a thief under the iron fist of Xenakis.  
  
"But it's _seven_ o'clock," she then protested, still not willing to get back up.  
  
Nadine let out an exasperated sigh. "Han Solo and his party members will be at the town square at nine." Though not a single word in her statement was stressed for emphasis, she was sure that the younger woman remembered that many, if not most, of their targets were under the Solos' faction. "We have to pose as journalists, and since the Solo brothers have seen us up close, we have to put on a disguise. _That_ will take a while. And besides, you have to dress ugly. Do you want Anakin to fall in love with the disguised you and fall out of love with the real you? I don't think so."  
  
She made her way towards the door, and when she looked back, she found Tahiri sitting up. The blonde, however, was scowling at her for her last comment, and she, too, scowled back, not just to get back at the other, but also because she was taking too long in getting up. "Come on. We've got work to do."

-**x**-

From behind a pair of round spectacles shone Tahiri's bright emerald eyes, and it went very well with her chosen disguise as a geeky politics fanatic. She only hoped that the confidence she was projecting that early would remain intact even if she would already be facing _him_. At that thought, she scowled, scolding herself mentally. There was no reason for her to be nervous. After all, she didn't like him.  
  
But why did sparks fly the night before?  
  
She was well aware that it began as an act, just like always, whenever she would have to deal with the members of the opposite sex. Besides, they were given orders to check on the Solo brothers and find out whatever they can about them and their family, and so when Anakin showed up once more, sneaking up on her through the window of her bedchamber, her mind reminded her of those orders almost automatically. Being a courtesan, she got him wrapped around her finger in no time, charmed and under her seductive spell.  
  
But, just when she reached the finale of her drama, the reality of it sunk in and hit her hard, in the form of a _kiss_. It caught her off-guard and shattered the façade she had constructed very carefully, something that no man had ever done to her before. Though she danced with the big boys and toyed with their emotions like any courtesan would, she had never been kissed. Only Anakin Solo, the blue-eyed hotshot she had bumped into at the marketplace, had dared to do such a thing to her. The ironic thing was, he was the only one she had allowed to do such a thing to her.  
  
It was short, but enough to ignite the fire that lay dormant inside of her. Frightened all of a sudden at the heat it generated and not wanting to burn with his love --- _if_ it was love --- so soon, she pushed him away, literally out of the window, as he was on his way to leave when it happened. It wasn't the perfect spot to share such an intimate moment, that she knew, but it was more than romantic enough for her. In fact, it went past her many visions of a first kiss in more aspects than one.  
  
A woman stepped up beside her, interrupting her train of thoughts. She cocked her head to the side slightly and grinned; Danni was straightening her flowing yellow dress, a bag of the same bright shade with flower designs slung over her shoulder. To match her sunshiny outfit, the other had hidden her blonde locks under a large bonnet with a flaring orange ribbon that was impossible to miss. A yellow-lined pair of sunglasses was sitting on her face, and on her feet were sandals of a similar shade. She looked very bright and bubbly, and to complete that look of hers, she greeted every single person who would pass her way. And that didn't exclude Tahiri, who hailed her in response, as if they didn't know each other.  
  
"Who's your top bet for Senator?" a high-pitched voice --- irritating, even --- exploded from behind the younger blonde, and she saw Nadine making her way through the crowd, waving her tape recorder around as she did so. Her dark brown hair was carefully concealed under a fake mass of too-bouncy pale blonde hair, and she wore a crisp business suit accompanied by red, high-heeled sandals on her feet; an attire simply too smart for her ditzy front. Which was the point.  
  
Tahiri smiled. With her act to worry about, there would be no room for Anakin. At least, for the time being.

-**x**-

As the campaign went on, Nadine suddenly had many reasons why she should kill Viqi Shesh.  
  
The woman's appearance had long annoyed the brunette; so much more the way she talked, although the disguised assassin couldn't point out why. But she was thrown into a state of rage, only compressed as she couldn't even _think_ of blowing her cover, when the only female Senatorial candidate made her oh-so-great speech. Not only did she sound as if she was the most powerful woman in all of Corellia, having allied herself with Han Solo; she also made it clear that it was their responsibility as the weaker sex to submit to the men, their masters.  
  
_I would never do that_, she vowed, her eyes narrowing into slits at the mere thought of it. If Danni and Tahiri were at their breaking points, at the verge of falling into the hands of the Solo brothers --- and thus, at their mercy --- she was soaring way above danger zone. She was an eagle hunting for prey, a predator not destined to be hauled in a cage in its lifetime. She was a courtesan toying with men and their fragile feelings, a professional smooth-talking femme fatale. Her heart would never be broken; if there would be anyone who would do the crushing, it would be _her_.  
  
Shesh having finished her talk, an open forum was declared.  
  
Hands shot up almost immediately, but because she and her two companions were women, they weren't given the priority unlike those from the other side. But it didn't matter if the candidates would answer their questions or not, as that wasn't what they were really there for. As the question and answer session went on, keeping the candidates busy with all the inquiries, Danni was already memorizing the important habits and tendencies of Kyp Durron's aide, a petite yet rather attractive woman in her mid-20's, while Tahiri was stealthily making her way to the Fel family for a little chat.  
  
Unexpectedly, Nadine was called forward to ask her question. Careful not to meet the gazes of Jacen and Anakin, who had seen her in close range and had looked into her eyes once before, she reverted to her bouncy front and requested that her query be answered by one of the running Senators, the aristocratic Soontir Fel. "Rumors have been going around, Mr. Fel," she began loudly, careful to throw her voice out of control in her fake enthusiasm, "and I was just wondering if it's true that… well, um, let me rephrase that. Um… what can you say about the rumor that you, um, attempted to sell your youngest daughter, Wynessa, to a slave merchant from Yuuzhan'tar for two million credits?"  
  
Fel's response was quick and defensive, and even with her attention focused on him, she sensed that his wife and children had reacted as well. "My daughter is safe in our home. She is merely suffering from a slight cold." Nadine swore she saw him glare daggers at her for asking such a question. "That rumor is a lie."  
  
Her eyes narrowed once more as she turned around and walked away. _I think not._

-**x**-

Wynessa Fel was not in her bedchamber, or anywhere else in the rooms she had checked out, for that matter. That made a trickle run down Atropos' spine, a trickle that indicated that something bad indeed happened to the young woman. _She's suffering from a slight cold, alright_, she thought grimly, biting her lip, before she hurried out and closed the door with a soft _click_. Not as soundless as she hoped it would go, but all she could do was silently pray that it wouldn't send an alarm or anyone in the mansion screaming.  
  
Another sound caught her ears. She turned around abruptly, unsheathing her weapon as swiftly as her muscles allowed her to. But it was only Clotho. The boots she had chosen to wear, reluctantly of course, added to the noise at her descent that normally wasn't there. "I take it you're edgy because Wynessa isn't there?" she heard the younger assassin ask, her voice still distinctly clear despite the black mask she wore over her face.  
  
She nodded. "She's supposed to be sick, thus recuperating here. But I don't see her anywhere." She waved her hand around, indicating that she had searched all the rooms in that floor; then she looked back at her companion and added, "The maids aren't even here. Pretty strange if you ask me, considering that this _is_ a mansion, and that there's supposed to an ill girl in the premises."  
  
Clotho shrugged. "Maybe he did sell her."  
  
"And the maids?"  
  
"Them, too. You know them, they _talk_. A lot."  
  
It made sense. Perfect sense, in fact. But still… Atropos couldn't explain it, but she had a very bad feeling about the situation, ever since they set foot inside the Fels' home. She was slightly relieved when Lachesis joined them, the blonde having completed her job as their sentry, even though the matter at hand was still far from over.  
  
"He's home," the newcomer reported, drawing out her poison darts. She may look fragile without her fighting gear on and with her face exposed and all, but she was definitely not to be underestimated. She might not have been born a fighter, but she was trained to be one, and exceptionally, at that. She wasn't just another dumb blonde. "His wife and kids aren't with him, nor is anyone else. This is our chance."  
  
The other two assassins nodded in agreement to Lachesis' statement, and then they all hurried out to meet their prey, who was halfway through climbing up the grand staircase of his mansion. When he didn't notice them, or even feel their presence, Atropos greeted him coldly, "Hello, Mr. Soontir Fel."  
  
The Senatorial candidate looked up, and fear caught him --- but only for a second. The dread that had captured him by surprise disappeared into thin air almost immediately, and then, he smiled, confident that the three who had been dispatched to kill him would not be able to do him any harm. Not even drawing his gun, which the women knew he carried with him at all times for self-defense, he retorted coolly, "Ah. You must be that assassin trio I've been hearing about." He bowed mockingly, then finished in a voice oozing with sarcasm, "How may I be of service?"  
  
"Don't try to talk your way out of this, Fel!" Clotho snarled. She was seething with anger, yet their leader held her back before she could do something that wasn't necessary. Not that it wasn't their mission to assassinate the politician; it was simply because they had to find out what had happened to Wynessa first before executing their mission. And he was the one who had the answers to their questions.  
  
"Oh, no. I'm not, my dear. It's just that…" His smile broadened as he continued to make his way to the topmost step of the stairway, stopping only when he stood directly in front of the three ladies and tucking his hands into the pockets of his trousers afterwards. "Well, if you wanted me dead, you could _and_ would have killed me already. But no, you chose not to do so, even if I'm practically unarmed and without company. There must be something else you want from me."  
  
"Where's Wynessa?"  
  
"My daughter's ill. She hasn't been seeing anyone."  
  
"She's not in her bedroom."  
  
"I've hidden her somewhere else, away from prying eyes," Soontir replied casually, almost as if what he was saying was scripted, something he prepared and memorized. His hands remained inside his pockets. "It's because of those rumors of her that she became ill. Reporters wouldn't lay off her---"  
  
Atropos didn't believe a single word he uttered, and so she cut him off as soon as she had heard enough. "Take us to her," she ordered sternly, making sure to glare at the man with as much force as she could muster. Despite having heard the first part of his explanation for his daughter's absence, she still felt her heart pounding with anxiety. He was calm, _too_ calm about the situation, and she knew, though not knowing how, he wasn't supposed to be.  
  
He nodded. "Certainly, certainly."  
  
It was too easy, Atropos noted, and that didn't ease the feeling of dread that had settled at the pit of her stomach. She couldn't tell what her companions were feeling at the moment, but she had the hunch that, like her, they were suspicious. As they followed Soontir towards the rooms on the lower floor --- towards the _basement?_ --- she kept her hands on her weapons all the time; the two blondes did the same. They may be three of the most skilled warriors in Corellia, but they were still cautious. They were the kind of assassins who wouldn't take chances.  
  
Soontir stopped in front of the last room, waving his hand to indicate that it was where his daughter was hidden, and subsequently drawing a finger to his lips for them to keep quiet. He then opened the door, peeking in casually. "Wynessa, dear? Daddy's friends are here to see you."  
  
No matter how much they had psyched themselves that they were prepared for the worst in any mission, they found themselves frozen for a few good heartbeats. Shock, disbelief and fear filled them to the brim, and those emotions did not disappear as quickly as they should have, because they simply couldn't find the will to push them away into the nothingness of oblivion. The sight that greeted them when Soontir exposed the interior of the chamber was downright disturbing, and even that was an understatement, for the once-charming lady Wynessa Fel was known to be was no more. What they saw instead was a monster.  
  
And the monster cried, _"Do-ro'ik vong pratte!"_  
  
---  
  
**Author's Notes:**  
  
Phew. First half of this double-episode special (if you can call it that) done; the other half to go. The title of this chapter and that of the next, **alterare**, is the middle Latin term for _alter_, and I think you already know by now why it is so. Anyway, as much as I wanted to go directly into Jaina's side of things, I had to close some doors and open new ones. I'm sure you can already sense, though, that this story is tilting towards her, with this chapter as its turning point.  
  
**Shai** – Thanks for helping me out with the details for this chapter. I really appreciate it. And thank you for being so patient, waiting for how many months and not giving up on me. A more clumsy Jacen? Well, I'll give that a try one of these days. Maybe it's what'll work out best, ne? ::grins::  
  
**brokeassproduc** – Thank you for your nice words. I'm glad you're enjoying the story so far. I'll do my best to make the next chapters as entertaining as possible. Thank you again.  
  
**Sibyl's Scion** – Thank you, too. Well I don't really think I switched writing styles much, so maybe it's just as what you said – it's been a while since my last post. Anyway, as I mentioned earlier I'm moving on to Jaina's story, though it's going to be quite a long ride considering how related she is to most of the main characters (Jacen, Anakin, Mara, etc…). Please stand by for it.  
  
**Satan's Advocate** – Thank you for pointing those out. I guess it's time for me to backtrack and fix those errors in the previous chapters. As for putting Jaina and Jag together… well, I haven't really decided just yet, but so far, that pairing has the most number of votes, and that's a good sign.

**Shiri** – Thank you! It's nice to know that someone appreciates not only the story, but also my writing style. As for your inquiry, those two were Anakin and Tahiri, backtracking to their first meeting in Chapter Four. I couldn't resist; they're such a cute couple. Too bad Anakin died in NJO…  
  
Alright, that's it for now, I'll be off to the second part of this installment. Hopefully I'll be able to finish it fast, without writer's block hitting me. If you have any suggestions, please do post them. I want to make this story as entertaining and interesting as possible. Thank you again, guys, and please review! Hehe. ::smiles::


	9. Alterare, Part II

**Scarlet Shadows  
**© Kaz, 2003-2004

_Chapter Nine – Alterare, Part Two_

They occupied one of the tables at the farthest end of the function room, wanting to discuss their own matters rather than those that involved the upcoming elections and other large-scale issues. They were concerned about those, yes, most especially about the assassin trio _Moirae_ that had recently surfaced from the bowels of Corellia, but it was one of those times when they didn't want to talk about such serious topics. It was the advanced _'victory party'_ of Han Solo's political faction, and they, being members of the said organization one way or another, were supposed to celebrate as well.

Kyp reached out for his glass and took in a considerable amount of wine, but as he put it back down on the table, his frown became evident to his other three companions. He didn't speak immediately, but when he did, they noted the disappointed tone in his voice. "So it's true. You really were at that nightclub last night."

"It's not what you think," the youngest of the four, Anakin, quickly interjected in protest.

"The reason you were there doesn't matter. The fact that you were there does." His eyes narrowed drastically as he regarded the brothers, who didn't seem to realize that what they did was very wrong. "I hope you're not forgetting that you two are highly-regarded personalities in this country, and that the _Feu de Joie_ is teeming with individuals who will probably never get out of the streets, even if your father becomes President. It's just not right for you two to be seen at such a place. You definitely don't belong-"

"Kyp." Jacen sounded tired. And in reality he was, tired from all the lecturing and reprimanding he had been getting, not only from his father, but also from his stand-in big brother. He leaned back against his chair, eyes looking at the Senator wearily. "We know what we're doing. We're not kids anymore. When I agreed to accompany Anakin to the _Feu de Joie_, I was well aware of the consequences."

"So was I. And we were prepared for them."

The older Solo shot his brother a smile, thankful for the support. He and Anakin weren't exactly best of friends, but they were brothers, nonetheless, and that made a difference. He then turned back to Kyp, but as he did so, the grin had disappeared, and all was left was his disapproving expression. "And please. Stop the discriminating talk. I don't like it."

The Senator raised his arms up in surrender. "All right, all right. But I just wanted you to know that I didn't like what you did." He eyed Jacen critically, his frown reappearing. "And I don't like that bruise."

"It's my problem, not yours," Jacen snapped, irritated that his injury was taken as a big deal. He didn't even want to think how big a deal it would be if they would discover that he had acquired it out of defending a waitress from a bunch of street punks. "And don't worry, what Anakin and I did won't tarnish your sweet-smelling political record or ruin your chance of becoming Senator for yet another term. That's what you're so worked up about, isn't it?"

_"Why you!"_

"Don't you dare raise your voice on my brother!"

"This doesn't concern you, Anakin! I'm warning you, stay out-"

Jag could only sigh at the brewing word war. While he was used to it, it was getting annoying. "Do we have to go through this again? You are all acting like children." He took a sip from his glass of wine coolly, ignoring the glares that were directed towards him. He sometimes wondered how they managed to become government officials and political advisers, and one of those times was now.

Before anyone could say anything in response to his comment, his cellphone rang. Excusing himself, politely as always, he stood up and answered the call. He had only taken a few steps away from where his companions were, however, when he abruptly turned around with a grim expression on his austere, aristocratic features. He didn't even bother to listen to what else the caller had to say to him. He immediately ended the call and put away his communicating device.

"_Moirae_," he said in a voice full of loathing, almost a growl. "They did something to Wyn."

And that was all it took to send them off.

-**x**-

The grin on Soontir's face twisted even more. He couldn't see the assassins' reactions, as their faces were hidden underneath dark-colored masks, but he could sense their shock and fear, as well as their feeling of helplessness. How were they to battle something they had never encountered before? "Now, now, ladies. There is no need for you to be scared. She just wants to play."

"What have you done to her?!" Clotho half-shrieked. She was trembling, not only because she was furious, but also because she was frightened. She wanted to know what the answer to her question was, but at the same time, she didn't want to either. She was afraid not only of the monster that stood in front of them, ready to rip each of them into shreds, but also of the truth behind Wynessa's grotesque transformation.

His voice was as cold as steel. "I saved her life."

They stared at him incredulously, unable to believe what they had just heard him say. _Save her life?_ How could becoming a fiend save one's life? From the looks of it, the young woman they once knew as Wynessa certainly didn't look well. The ugly scars on her forehead alone were enough to let the trio know that.

"You heard me right. I saved her life. She would not have conquered her illness without my colleagues' timely intervention. She would have been devoured by it alive, until she'd be nothing but an empty shell. She may have changed, but it's for the better. This way, I still have her. She may have changed, but my love for her hasn't. She will always be my little girl. I saved her life. _I saved her life._ And now…" A dangerous light flashed within the corners of his eyes, one that made the warning bells at the back of the women's minds sing wildly, as he finished with a triumphant grin, "…she will save mine. Go, dear. Daddy's friends have come to play."

The battle cry came again. But this time, Wynessa did not hold back her attack. She lunged at the three, a murderous look in her eyes, eyes that reflected her loss of humanity.

Atropos dodged. Clotho back-flipped away. Lachesis, however, was just a second too slow. She was soon slammed on the floor, the frenzied Wynessa on top of her, her frail figure unusually powerful. The assassin felt their nemesis' strong grip close in on her throat, robbing her of precious air and making dark spots dance in front of her eyes. She attempted to pry the other off her, channeling whatever energy was left in her to her hands, but it was to no avail. Much of her strength had already been depleted.

But she wasn't to succumb to ruin just yet. Soon, she was free again, and she rolled over to her side as she struggled to regain the composure she had lost. Though her attention wasn't completely fixed on the ongoing battle, she was aware of what had happened and what was happening. Clotho had come to her rescue, tackling Wynessa off her, and now the furious creature was bent on destroying the girl who had interrupted her fun.

Atropos stepped up to assist, but the younger girl held out her arm to stop her from doing anything. "Leave her to me. You and Lachesis go after Soontir, before he gets away or calls for reinforcements," she said confidently, flashing the other a knowing smile. If hand-to-hand combat was what their foe wanted, then she was the perfect warrior to give it to her. Also, she was well aware that their mission was to dispose of Soontir, and Wynessa was merely a distraction. It was her duty to create – and take care of – such distractions.

Gracefully, she turned to her adversary and slid into a defensive fighting stance, fists raised and poised to strike. She knew not what she was up against, or what it would take for her to be victorious, but she was ready. _Come and get me,_ she thought with a smirk, motioning her to make the first move.

Recognizing the gesture as a challenge, the other dropped into a fighting stance as well, though it was a welcoming one, relaying her confidence that Clotho would not even get the opportunity to come swinging in with her fists. The impassive expression on her face, however, contorted considerably as she summoned her weapons – long, deadly talons that sprung out from the tips of her fingers.

And then, accepting the invitation, Wynessa charged.

-**x**-

An annoyed Arica emerged from her bedchamber, rushed down three flights of stairs, and headed for the back door of the _Feu de Joie_. One of her talents had interrupted her afternoon nap, informing her that there were two people who wanted to see her, but would not tell them their names or their visit's intent, thus preventing their hassle-free entry. Being the club owner and the person concerned, it was her responsibility to confront the guests – _her_ guests – unholy the hour may be for her.

The annoyed expression on her face was quickly replaced by a smile as she saw who her visitors were, though she did not hurry to meet and welcome them to the place she considered her home. She allowed herself to enjoy the sight, as it was rare; the male was leaning sideways against the wall, arms crossed in front of his chest, while the female was in the middle of telling the sentry why they should be allowed to enter and given the VIP treatment.

She wasn't even that close when the man sensed her arrival. He averted his gaze from the arguing individuals by his side to her still-intimidating form, pushing himself off the wall almost lazily. Grinning, he then called out, "Hey, it's about time you came to let us in."

Hearing his words, his companion stopped in midsentence, her attention completely diverted to the redhead, who by then was only a few steps away from where the sentry stood. She, too, could not avoid smiling upon the sight of her. "Thank goodness! I thought I had to argue for the rest of the afternoon!"

"It's nice to see you, too," Arica commented, waving her hand to dismiss the sentry and allowing her guests to enter the premises. When the other refused to budge, she flashed him a reassuring smile. "It's okay. They're old friends of mine." And with that, she turned around to lead the way in for the newcomers, who immediately understood the gesture and followed without question. She wanted to indulge in a conversation, as they hadn't seen each other in a long time, but she found herself holding back and just keeping her mouth shut. She really didn't know why, but she knew it had something to do with the reason why they came to visit.

The other woman caught up with her after a few seconds, still smiling as she walked alongside her. "You've got a nice place here. It's not only spacious; it's conveniently in the heart of the city. If you haven't changed, then your bedroom's probably up in the fourth floor." Arica had to nod at the correctness of her statement, and she continued, "And the fact that you're good at names remains. _Feu de Joie_ is just pretty. Fitting, even. But I'm just wondering, why didn't you use-"

Arica knew what she meant before she even finished her sentence. Grinning, she interrupted her by saying, "_Jade's Fire _would've been a dead giveaway," while shrugging as though she really didn't have a choice in the matter, when in fact she actually did. Shortly after those words left her, however, she frowned, her emerald eyes narrowing drastically. That couldn't have been just a passing statement. Not when it came from Mirax Horn. "You're not here just to check out the sights, are you?"

"I'm afraid not," Mirax's husband, Corran, said. He wasn't smiling anymore. "We came to speak to you about _Moirae_."

-**x**-

Atropos locked gazes with Wynessa, her hand on the hilt of her sword; she didn't want to use it against the girl – who really did nothing wrong and was innocent, technically speaking – but she knew that she would have to if the situation wouldn't change. Despite Clotho's proposition, she and Lachesis were both unable to leave the area, let alone go after Soontir. The apparently brainwashed young woman had prevented them from doing so.

With her extraordinary, inhuman strength, she had defeated Clotho with just one strike, knocking her out of the window in the process. She didn't even have to use her claws to dish out the damage she had inflicted on the youngest member of _Moirae_.

Upon hearing Clotho's piercing cry of defeat, Lachesis had turned back, enraged at what Wynessa had done to the young assassin. She drew her weapons from the folds of her trench coat and hurled them at their opponent, but the darts were deflected one by one with the other's claws, the executor of the said move not even breaking stride. And before Atropos got close enough to intervene, Wynessa had struck the blonde warrior on the chest, her claws tearing her skin and summoning her blood to rush forth. That and the impact of her landing on the cold, hard floor finally pulled her into the void of unconsciousness.

Anger was building up inside of the last assassin left standing. The savage beast that Soontir had unleashed had hurt the people she considered her sisters, and that was unforgivable. One of them might even be dead; she didn't know, she couldn't tell. To kill Wynessa was not part of the mission, but to allow her to live would be to give room for more injuries and even casualties. She couldn't allow that to happen. Not when she was capable of stopping it from happening.

The two warriors continued to circle each other like vicious jungle predators, eyeing each other intently, waiting for the perfect moment to strike. As they circled on, Atropos could not help but wonder about so many things, like why and how her comrades had fallen so easily. Was Wynessa really _that_ powerful? But how could have a few scars transformed the demure politician's daughter into a savage fighting machine? And Soontir's _'colleagues'_ – those who probably had inflicted the scars on her – who were they? What did they wish to accomplish by giving birth to a monster? Did they intend to turn her into such a creature, or was she merely some kind of experiment gone wrong?

As if in response to her initial unspoken inquiry, Wynessa leapt, her talons reaching out for her. She quickly dropped to the floor; the girl missed, but barely. She rolled over and pushed herself back up, thinking that she recovered a few good seconds ahead of the other to her advantage, only to find out that it was not so. Wynessa had gotten up as well, and was _smiling_, apparently enjoying her battle with the assassin.

Then, the other retracted her claws, much to Atropos' surprise. The girl then held both her arms out, and she understood. Though reluctantly, she took her sword – sheath and all – and threw it away from her. She then, too, brought her arms out, indicating that she had nothing more to hide. No other weapons or anything that could give rise to _'fancy tricks'_ of some sort.

Wynessa dropped into a fighting stance, and so did she.

She really didn't know what to do except to give her best. Hand-to-hand combat was not her specialty, it was Clotho's, and if the younger woman had lost with one strike, how could she possibly win? She eyed her opponent intently, watching out for any sign of weakness that she could take advantage of. Her lean body structure gave her speed and flexibility. Whatever Soontir's _'colleagues'_ did to her gave her strength and power. What did she lack?

The question had barely left her when the answer came. She was not sure if it would work, but at least she had something to work on. And so she decided to go to the offensive. She rushed forward to attack, but just when she was within range, she somersaulted to land behind the girl. Crouched on the floor, she did a low kick, sweeping her leg in a semi-circle.

It would've knocked Wynessa off her feet had the girl not jumped. She tumbled in mid-air and landed a few feet away from the assassin – the only warrior she considered a worthy opponent, and, therefore, worthy of battling without the use of weapons. She saw the other charge for her once more, and this time, she opened herself to the attack.

Punches and kicks rained on her; some she deflected, a spare few she allowed to hit her. She did not, however, leave her side open for long. The moment Atropos paused to draw on enough strength for a second strike, she returned the assault with her own set of punches and kicks, not giving the other the chance to strike back. She attacked, and kept on attacking, and while the assassin held on by shielding herself from the attacks and parrying whenever her speed would allow her to, she couldn't hold on forever.

A punch slid past Atropos' defenses, hitting her squarely on the gut, and she slammed against the wall. Pain shot through her like a lightning bolt, but she forced herself to ignore it, knowing that if she would fall, there would be no stopping Wynessa's rampage.

The girl advanced, taking slow steps, as if waiting for her opponent to get back up on her feet and attack her once more. The expression on her face was as smug and confident as ever – but at a closer, much closer glance, one could see that her body was not taking the beating as well as her will and mind were. Her body was still that of a young woman who had never been trained in the fighting arts, and it had already begun to display signs of exhaustion.

Seemingly oblivious to that, she looked down at Atropos, eyes flashing with a dangerous gleam as she said something in a language only she understood. While the words were incomprehensible, the message was clear; she was demanding the fallen warrior to get up and resume fighting her. Receiving no response from the assassin, she bent down to grab her by the neck, only to receive a blow right on the face, courtesy of Atropos' clenched fist.

The girl stumbled back, dazed and weakened by the unexpected strike she had caught head-on. The assassin had caught her off-guard by playing dead, and she felt as though she was cheated on by the move Atropos had executed. Infuriated and desiring revenge, she summoned her talons once more, determined to rip her nemesis into many pieces for cheating on what had been a fair fight. And with only one loud roar of vehemence, she pounced.

Then, she collapsed in a heap on the floor.

For a few heart-stopping seconds, nobody dared to move, in fear that the battle might not really be over, that their foe might have withstood the effects of the tranquilizer and would once again rise up to destroy them both. Atropos only blinked, not trusting her other muscles to move just yet. Wynessa had literally come very close to tearing her apart; she was barely a feet away when she had been struck unconscious. Lachesis, on the other hand, stood across her with verdant eyes locked on the girl's still form, a new set of darts already drawn and ready to be hurled at her once more if necessary.

When Wynessa remained unconscious after quite sometime – probably a minute or so – both women dropped their guards and, together, sighed in relief. Atropos then rushed to the older assassin and gave her a hug; it even looked like she didn't want to let go. "I needed that. I _really_ needed that. Your timing was perfect." She held on, allowing the frightened child in her to release the emotions that shook her bubble of security. "Thank you."

"Don't mention it," Lachesis told her with a smile, not really wanting to take the credit for _'saving'_ Atropos, as it was by fate's doing that she regained consciousness just in the nick of time, but found herself too worn out to even engage in an argument. She'd just have to argue the point later, when they were sure that their youngest member was safe and that all three of them were strong enough to take on another mission. Gently, she pulled away; as much as didn't want to interrupt the younger woman's emotional session, they still had work to do. "Now let's get Clotho and scram."

-**x**-

"Tranquilizer," Anakin identified after he took one of the darts apart and sniffed the fluid that was contained within. He then put the item aside and turned to address Jag, who had knelt down to caress his sister's face with one hand and enclose her left hand with the other, seemingly oblivious to everything else that was going on. He tucked his hands into the pockets of his trousers and assured to the older man, "Don't worry, Jag. She'll be okay. She should be up in two hours or so."

The other's hand had moved to gingerly trace the scars on her forehead with his fingers as he attempted to understand the rationale behind doing such a thing. But there was nothing there to understand. "There's only one thing I'm sure," he voiced out the last few fragments of his thoughts, "_Moirae_ did this to her. And for that, I'm going to kill them. _I'll kill them all._"

Having pronounced his plans for revenge, he lifted his unconscious little sister off the floor and headed out of the basement. Anakin followed almost immediately, but only until the corridor; he then just decided to wait for his brother and Kyp to return, watching Jag disappear into the other end with disturbed, ice-blue eyes. True, he didn't see anything wrong with Wynessa, except for the ugly scars on her temple that definitely stood out, but his senses told him otherwise. He couldn't put his finger to it, but the fact that she had tranquilizer darts sticking onto her back when they arrived was just peculiar. And the scars – they weren't fresh. If _Moirae_ had inflicted those wounds on her, wouldn't they be dripping with blood?

He frowned. Something fishy was going on.

---

**Author's Notes:**

Yep, I'm still alive. Don't give up on me! :) As you can see, I'm back. I apologize for my absence once again, I've just been terribly busy. The previous semester was so hectic, and I had other things to take care of as well, such as play rehearsals and singing engagements. Also, I was unable to read any of the NJO books for quite a while, and it was only after reading Reunion a couple of days ago that I got all inspired to write. Again, I'm really _really_ sorry. I don't know when I'll be able to post the next chapter, and I don't want to promise anything, but hopefully I'll have a chapter or two out by December.

Anyway, there you have it, the second half of the double-episode special. I hope you liked it!

**Organa46** – Thanks for the review! And well, I'm really having problems with the age gaps, but I don't think an error of a year or two wouldn't make much of a difference. Still, I'll be doing some editing starting from the very chapter sometime during Christmas break, and I'll take care of that. Why Leia's in a detention cell? You'll just have to wait and see. Thanks again!

**brokeassproduc** – Thanks so much! I really appreciate your support!

**Gwendolyn** **Rogan** – Thank you! Those words coming from you really mean a lot, considering that you're a really very good author! I just hope I'm doing things right, though. I haven't been reading the books or even fanfics lately, and my characterization of the cast might get all messed up or something. Or even their relationships and whatnot. Please do let me know if you see any of that. Again, thanks a lot!

**socal-schitzophrenic **– You too, thank you for your heartwarming comments! I'm really thankful for your support despite the fact that I take so much time to update. Rest assured that I will do my best to make the chapters worth waiting for, hehe. I can't say your wish is my command in terms of the pairings, but I'll do my best! Many thanks!

**Dana** – Wow, that's very nice to hear. Thank you! Though I'm sure you can be a very good author, too. Just work on little pieces whenever you're free, I know you can come up with something. And if you need anything, feel free to email or IM me; I'll be glad to be of assistance! And don't worry. I'm going to finish this story, even if it takes me years! Thank you so much for the support!

**X-Wing** – Thanks a lot! I'm so glad to know that you're liking my story, and I'm very thankful for your nice words. I'll do my best to post more as soon as I can. And about your addiction, I'll do what I can to fuel it even more. Thanks again!

Again, I would like to thank everyone who read and reviewed and stuck with me this far. You're definitely giving me the inspiration I need to keep on going as well. Your support is priceless! Thank you so much, and may the Force be with you always! :p


	10. Rivalis

**Scarlet Shadows**  
© Kaz, 2003-2005

* * *

_Chapter Ten – Rivalis_

* * *

"What about the girls?" 

Corran hesitated for a moment, throwing a glance at his wife. What he had to say would surely upset Arica, that he knew well, and he didn't want to become the object of the redhead's fury. It would be better if Mirax would be the one to break the news, the two women being best of friends; however, she only gave him a disapproving glare. At that, he swallowed the lump that had formed in his throat. He didn't want to become the object of _her_ fury, either.

But before he could even say a word, Arica jumped in. Her emerald eyes were staring at the couple almost impassively, and her voice had a cold shiver as well. "Let me guess. You're here to tell me that I shouldn't have brought _Moirae_ back and put the lives of these girls in jeopardy."

It took a moment for Corran to recover, apparently having forgotten how brilliant the redhead was at reading people. He sighed and raised his arms up in a surrendering motion. "Guilty as charged," he admitted, shaking his head. He then met her gaze with his calm one. "The shadows of Clotho, Lachesis and Atropos fall upon those who wear their masks, shadows that inevitably lead to destruction and death. We know that to be true. Mara, they're only kids–"

"They're no better off on the streets, as pawns of the deadly game those in power play! Things have changed, Corran – and for the _worse_!"

"That's not an excuse," he countered. She was being stubborn again. Just as she always was. But that, too, meant that he could talk her out of it, being the levelheaded one, the man of reason. Like always. "Their leader. Nadine, was that her name? How old is she? Seventeen? Yet she kills without hesitation, as if she can't feel a thing. And Tahiri Veila!" He cut her off before she could say anything, having seen her open her mouth to interrupt. "Fifteen and fragile. Bend her even further and she's definitely going to break. Then there's Danni Quee. You said you saved her from living a life of death and pain, and yet what you actually did was turn her the other way to do the exactly the same! What do you have to say now?"

If the redhead was furious, she didn't show it. Her voice failed to conceal her anger, however. "First of all," she began in a steely tone, "Nadine is _eighteen_, Tahiri is _not_ fragile, and I didn't do _that_ to Danni. You don't know them as much as I do, so you better keep your mouth shut about them! Second, I never forced them to become _Moirae_. It was their _choice._ They wanted to continue the fight – the fight that _you_ ran away from!"

Silence.

"I didn't run away," Corran protested, but the softness of his tone said otherwise.

Mirax reached out to squeeze his shoulder in encouragement silently telling him that it was okay. Then, she turned to look at Arica, taking over as her husband had apparently lost the battle. "I was hoping you've already forgiven us for that, but it seems that you haven't. I don't blame you, but please, let's not bring the past up anymore."

The expression on the other woman's pale features changed noticeably; she was at the verge of breaking down. She felt herself grow weak, and she sunk into her chair, bowing her head. "But I can't forget it," she said a low voice, almost inaudibly. "No matter how hard I try, I just can't. The past haunts my dreams every night, making me relive every single moment of pain, every single moment of helplessness, every single moment of guilt. I wasn't strong enough. I could've achieved victory for all of us, but at that battle my weakness destroyed everything we had and everything we hoped to gain. And the worst part is…"

She looked up at Mirax with tear-stained eyes. "Luke is dead because of me."

-**x**-

**_Do-ro'ik vong pratte!_**

Tahiri froze, the monstrous roar causing every muscle in her body to immobilize. Even though she had no idea what those words meant, she knew she had heard those words before. Those very same words escaped the lips of little Wynessa, who had become some sort of ugly, evil monster out to rip them into shreds at Soontir Fel's command.

It was something else that terrified her, however.

The voice sounded like her own.

She could feel a solid presence behind her, and even without looking she could tell that, whoever or whatever it was, it was poised to strike, should she make the wrong move, however slight it may be. Countless thoughts ran through her head, but the more she thought about fleeing, the stronger the urge to turn around became.

Her curiosity won the silent war that plagued her from the inside. Having made up her mind, she closed her eyes and slowly whirled around. She prepared herself for the worst; she predicted that it would be another Wynessa monster thing, one as strong as the girl had become, and one much craftier. The fact that it was able to mimic her voice was enough for her to suppose that it was trying to lure her and her friends into a trap.

She opened her eyes.

**_The two of us are inseparable. Cut me, and you bleed; kill me, and you die. And impossible as it seems, Tahiri, we're stuck with each other._**

The creature smiled – but it wasn't just any smile.

It was a cruel smile.

Twisted.

Sardonic.

**_We either live together, or die together. There is no in between._**

Tahiri screamed.

-**x**-

Danni was instantly by Tahiri's side, her arms wrapped around the shaking girl. The younger assassin's scream had sent a jolt of panic through her system, and without hesitation she had abandoned her task to attend to her need. She felt the girl cling to her, as if she would die if she would let go, and that made her swallow. Whatever she had dreamt about was awful; it wasn't easy to scare the wits out of her. "Hush now, it's okay… It's okay, Tahiri, it was just a dream… It was just a dream…"

"It was _awful_," Tahiri relayed in a muffled voice as she buried her face into the older woman's chest, her tears soaking her shirt. Then, she looked up at the other blonde, fear shining brightly from the corners of her emerald eyes, and she held on even tighter. There was no way she was letting go; at least, not just yet. "Don't leave me, Danni. Don't leave me. I… I'm scared."

-**x**-

He stared at the pistol that he had concealed inside his drawer, and as he ran his fingers over its shiny metal hull, he could see the destruction of _Moirae_ with it in his hands. Gingerly, he picked it up and examined it intently, all the while thinking of the perfect way to put an end to the female vigilantes' atrocity. Ah, yes. He would shoot the tall one on the head, the small one at the back of her neck while she would be on her knees to beg for her life, and the leader on the chest, with the bullet going straight through her heart. He wouldn't even bother unmasking them; it would only be a waste of his time.

He saw his image through the weapon's reflective coating, and he once again remembered his sister. She meant so much to him, and because _Moirae_ had hurt her, he was going to make them pay. Painfully, at that.

He carefully tucked the pistol into its holster, which hung suspended from his hip, and then took the piece of parchment paper that was laid out on his table – the floor plan of the Fel's mansion, _his_ territory. He held it up high against the light, once more running through his plan of action to make sure that there wouldn't be any lapses.

It was to be an entrapment operation. He would lure the girls back into his home and finish them off one by one. Having seen how they maneuver in their missions, he knew that they weren't the type to charge into their target's assassination area all at once. The small one would come from the roof; the tall one from the window or a secret passage, if there was any; and the leader from the front door.

He was also aware of their strengths and weaknesses. The small one was flexible and agile, and no doubt good at hand-to-hand combat. However, she was much too aggressive, and she relied more on impulse than strategy. The tall one was great at defense and with projectiles, but she was physically the weakest of the three. The leader was fierce and strong, and her ability to handle weapons was impressive; but as much as she had that much firepower she didn't have a lot of stamina to keep her going for long.

It was going to be a piece of cake.

-**x**-

When the blonde-haired waitress opened the door she didn't expect to see Anakin Solo. He didn't really seem to know why he was standing in front of Tahiri's room in the first place, and was apparently feeling a little bit too shy. She, however, realized what he was there for almost immediately; he was holding a bouquet of red roses and a card. He must've heard that the courtesan got sick and snuck out of their grandiose villa to visit.

"May I see Tahiri?" he requested, blue eyes meeting her green ones.

"Just a sec," she told him, smiling, before she quickly closed the door. She then turned around to face Tahiri, who had pushed herself up and was now sitting on her bed, a quizzical expression on her face. She hadn't completely recovered from the injuries she had acquired from their brawl with Wynessa, but Danni could tell that she was well enough to walk and socialize. And of course, flirt with cute guys.

"Who is it?"

"Get dressed, hurry! You wouldn't believe who it is." She resisted the urge to just giggle and leave the other girl on her own to find out who her visitor was. As much as she enjoyed the confused look on Tahiri's face, she also felt giddy about the young man visiting her. It was just too sweet. "It's Anakin. And guess what, he's bringing _flowers_!"

Tahiri's eyes flew wide open in shock, and she immediately bolted out of bed, as if she wasn't injured at all. She opened her dresser and hastily picked out something to wear, causing random things to fall out and make a lot of noise. She didn't even notice it until one of her bags fell on top of her head, but she only grabbed it and threw it away.

She finished changing – and fixing her hair – in record time. She was about to rush out of the room and meet him, when Danni pointed out that she wasn't wearing shoes and that it didn't look good with the dress she was wearing. Scowling, she reached out for a box, randomly selecting her footwear, but as soon as she managed to pull it out of the stack of boxes, the rest toppled down and made even more noise.

She cringed.

"I'll handle it," Danni offered, rushing to the fallen objects and scattered debris. Before she started picking them up and putting them back into place, however, she turned to the younger blonde and gave her an impatient look. "Well, what are you waiting for? Go! You've made him wait far too long. Don't forget that his father's Han Solo; he might've gotten infected with his obsession with time."

"Thanks, sis. I really appreciate this." She winked. "I'll ask him to say hi to Jacen for you."

The mention Jacen Solo's name was enough to make Danni blush. She wanted to melt and evaporate into thin air, if only it was possible. Embarrassed at what her companion had said, she grabbed the object nearest to her – which happened to be one of Tahiri's small but fluffy heart-shaped pillows – and hurled it towards the unsuspecting girl. Unfortunately, she was opening the door by then to meet her visitor, and was, in no time, out of the pillow's target zone.

So it came soaring towards Anakin instead, hitting him right on the face.

---

**Author's Notes**

I have not abandoned you guys:-)

You heard me right. I'm still alive, and I hope you're still there, too. It just so happened that I was attacked by Darth Writer's Block (and consequently lost inspiration) while college life ganged up on me, so I've been unable to update, except those fics of mine that require short chapters. This fic happens to have the longest words per chapter requirement. –sweatdrops–

Speaking of that, this chapter didn't meet the requirement I had set (but I do hope it's long enough!), so instead of letting it sit in my computer and risk being eaten away by worms as I don't know when I'd be able to continue writing, I decided to just post it anyway. However, on my next update (hopefully soon), I'll be putting up **chapter ten and one-half** along with the eleventh chapter. Would that be alright?

And also, I feel that the characters are OOC in this chapter. But I can't think of any other way to let them act considering all that's happened (and will happen) to them. Hope it doesn't bother you guys too much.

Anyway, this chapter's title **rivalis** is actually the **Latin** word for **rival**. You'll know why the title is such by the time I get chapter ten and one-half out. And I'm still not sure, but this might be a double-episode again, with chapter eleven comprising part two.

And I actually just took the dialogue of the second scene (the one in bold and italic after the Vong battlecry) from **Reunion, page 191**. It's obvious who the other person is, isn't it?

**Saber Girls** – I'm so sorry for taking so long! I hope you're not sad anymore. I swear, I did not intend to make the cute little Ewoks suffer! –winks– Oh yeah, about your question. This is on a planetary scale; the places (Corellia, Coruscant, etc.) are countries. About the Vong, well, I leave that up to you to figure out. Hehe. Anyway, I'm really glad that you're still with me even though I haven't been writing anything for a long time. I'll do my best to get the next chapters out soon. Please do review, cuz reviews really inspire me! Thanks!

**Satan's Advocate** – Hehe, cellphones are cool. Hm, can you guess what the unit of Jag's phone is? Haha! Thanks so much!

**Valentia** – Jag, green eyes. Got that. Thanks for pointing that out. Sometimes I just don't remember the tiny details anymore. Thanks a lot!

**Zetta **– Hey, don't feel bad! I really don't mind, though it would really be nice to get more reviews and get fueled to write even more. Hehe. About Wynessa/Wynssa, I haven't actually read the book in which she appears (Refugee, right?) so I haven't really seen for myself how her name's spelled, and my friend just told me about her, name spelling included. I'll do some research sometime. Thanks for everything, for the complaints and the compliments; I really appreciate them!

**mowat** – Thanks! I really like hearing your thoughts and ideas, because you guys also think of a lot of things that I don't or miss out. Thanks again!

**Gwendolyn Rogan** – Wow, I'm speechless. Thanks very much! Yes, school is evil, and the Vong are evil. I'll go read your stories sometime, I haven't done so in a long time. Thank you for your undying support since the beginning, I really appreciate it!

**Jaina **– Thank you! So, is there anything in particular you want to see in this story? –winks–

Thanks again, guys! Until next time!


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